Finding Home
by aspengold
Summary: this is a sequel, picking up six months after the end of the novel.
1. Chapter 1

_this is another sequel - all characters are property of the Stephens Mitchell Estate_. _Direct quotes from the novel are in quotes and italics. please let me know what you think. AG_

Scarlett wearily dressed for the weekly meeting of the Association for the Beautification of the Graves of Our Glorious Dead, wishing with half of her mind that she had never sought membership, while the other half wished she could truly be interested in it. After the deaths of Melly and Bonnie, and Rhett's final abandonment, she had retreated to Tara and the comfort of Mammy. Mammy, the last link with the old days, Mammy, who had told her in no uncertain terms that her mother and Miss Melly were weeping in heaven, and that if she wanted to see them again, Miss Scarlett had better mend her ways. Frightened at the thought, and with the religious training of her childhood brought to the fore of her mind, Scarlett had returned to Atlanta and with her usual single-minded determination, had cow-towed to the Old Guard, and wheedled and begged her way into nearly as many groups as Melly had once belonged. Her declaration that Melly would want her to carry on her work went far in smoothing her path, and, in an honest moment, Scarlett knew that was not a lie. Rhett's assault on that same group of upright Atlanta citizens had worked before, when he had dragged her kicking and screaming to some semblance of respectability for Bonnie's benefit, and Scarlett was grudgingly accepted into the fold.

She wore subdued clothing to all of her meetings, meekly took her turn hosting the events at her home, always careful to have the servants hide the vast majority of her ostentatious decorations, contributed generously, but not to the point of excess, and had bitten her tongue so many times she was positive there were scars. She pinned her hat on her head and headed for the parlor.

The sound of Ella's giggles and Wade's laughter caused her to stop momentarily. Rhett's cruel but accurate assessment of her mothering had cut more deeply than she had let on to him, hating, as always, to admit he was correct, and while at Tara, she and Mammy had spoken seriously of her relationship with them. Mammy knew neither child had been wanted, had witnessed Scarlett's inattention and sharpness toward them, but nevertheless insisted that it was not too late to salvage something close to a mother and child relationship.

"Do it for Miss Melly, chile," Mammy urged. "She loved your children like her own."

Yes, for Melly. Scarlett straightened her back, kissed her children good-bye, and climbed into the buggy, steeling herself for another boring afternoon. Perhaps on the way back she would stop at the store and go over the books. Even the thought of soaring profits failed to lift her spirits. Damn him, she thought again.

When Rhett had walked out of her life six months ago, he had told her that he would return to keep gossip down. True, he had been gone nearly that long in the past, but now, Scarlett had a sinking feeling in her stomach that he had lied to her, that he never intended to return. Her explanation to Wade and Ella had been a business trip, a story they accepted, but they were beginning to ask for him. Rhett was the only father Ella had ever known, and had been Wade's for over half of his life, had in fact been in Wade's life almost since his birth. And, Scarlett admitted with unaccustomed honesty, Rhett was a much better parent to them than she.

God, how she missed him. Longed for his wicked humor, his barbed comments, his strong arms, arms which in her stupidly blind insistence on loving a dream, she had banished from her bed. She even missed his hateful comments and their all too frequent fights. Recalling his impersonal kindness when he left, Scarlett drew her shawl more tightly around her. Anything, anything was preferable to that. It was too close to contempt, and she would die before she elicited contempt from him. Admiration, respect, and love were what she wanted. But in her heart, Scarlett feared that his love had worn out, as he had said, even as hers had grown. Certainly his silence the past six months confirmed his statement.

Scarlett listened to the ladies with half an ear, a pleasant smile pasted on her face, and was relieved when it was time for refreshments. She politely declined, stating that Ella might be coming down with a cold, which was true, and she needed to get home. Despite herself, Scarlett laughed inwardly at the Old Guard. Her maternal concern had raised her standing in the eyes of Mrs. Merriwether and several others.

The idea of checking columns of figures gave her a headache now, when once it had brought her joy, and she turned the buggy toward home. Home. Scarlett didn't conceal her sarcastic laugh. When had it really been a home? Never, not even when Bonnie was alive, because she and Rhett had always been at each other's throats. God in heaven, he had been so correct - she had thrown away happiness with both hands.

Rhett sat in the carriage and gazed unseeingly out the window. Despite his arguments with himself, he was back in Atlanta, headed to the large, too quiet house on Peachtree Street. So quiet without Bonnie's running feet, Mammy's scolding voice, Bonnie's laughter. Why the devil had he promised her that he would come back to keep gossip down? He'd never given a damn about gossip, until Bonnie's birth, and then he had merely changed his spots. And Scarlett's. He let out a long suffering sigh. Meeting Scarlett O'Hara had certainly changed his life. The past months, he had often indulged himself, thinking about how differently things would be if he had never laid eyes on her all those years ago.

He would never have known he was capable of such love, he admitted honestly. And he would never had known such pain, the pain of holding her in his arms and knowing she wished those arms belonged to another. He would also never have known he was capable of such cruelty to the mother of his child.

"_Cheer up, maybe you'll have a miscarriage."_

He cringed. Of all the cruel things he had ever said to Scarlett, that was the worst. No wonder she had not called for him when she was so sick, so sick he was sure he had killed her. His cruelty toward her had been far worse than hers to him, because Scarlett had never said she loved him, had never lied to him about that, yet he had punished her for not saying it. The unfairness of his behavior sickened him.

If he had never met Scarlett, he would never have known the utter joy of holding his daughter in his arms. And he would never have known the despair and grief which threatened to kill him when she died.

The night Melanie Wilkes died, Scarlett had told him of her love, and he believed it. But. With Scarlett, there was always a "but." She had declared unending love for Ashley Wilkes, only to discover it was a dream. Still, Rhett knew Scarlett well, and had seen the truth in her eyes, heard it in her voice, and had witnessed her determination not to cry and scream at him. He had waited so long to hear those words, "I love you," and when she had uttered them, he was too numb and too weary to feel anything except kindness and pity.

In moments of reflection, Rhett admitted that he wanted to exert a measure of control over Scarlett. They were so similar - cynical, opportunistic, selfish, determined to succeed in the post war South - that Rhett understood her motives and applauded them, as long as they did not include Ashley Wilkes. Nevertheless, he had not desired to change her character, as he loved her beyond words, but sought to change her feelings toward him. When she agreed to marry him, she admitted fondness for him, a declaration which broke his heart. Fondness, and his money. He realized that Scarlett sought independence and security, and he gave her both during their marriage, willing to do whatever he could to win her love. And he had, too late.

Rhett collected the presents for Ella and Wade, grabbed his bag, and reached for his house key. Striding to the front door, he paused. He hadn't wired her that he was coming, hoping that he would be able to stay away. Damn it all, he was afraid, afraid to go in and see her again. It puzzled him, this fear. He didn't love her, was back only because of some strange, perverse promise he had made her. A promise which he should never have made, and one he wished to God he had the strength to break. Why was he so hesitant to see her? Why did the mere thought of her arouse him? Why did he ache to feel her arms around his neck, hear her laughter, even listen to her tantrums?

"Uncle Rhett!" Ella leaped into his arms and kissed his cheek, overjoyed to see him. Wade stood beaming at him, hesitated, unsure whether he should shake hands, then ran to Rhett and hugged him.

After the gifts were distributed, still with no sign of Scarlett, Rhett took a deep breath and inquired as to her whereabouts.

Wade proudly told him that his mother was at the monthly meeting of the Association for the Beautification of the Graves of Our Glorious Dead and Rhett was hard pressed to conceal his shock.

"Why did she join, Wade? Did she tell you?" Damn it, what did he care why Scarlett did anything? He'd told her he didn't.

"_My dear, I don't give a damn."_

"Because of Aunt Melly," Wade replied soberly. "Mother told us that Aunt Melly would want her to be in all the groups and clubs, so Mother is gone nearly every afternoon to meetings."

Rhett's eyebrow went up and his mouth down. Wade was clearly proud of his mother and his large brown eyes shone with happiness. Rhett's eyes flitted to Ella. Sweet, simple Ella. She lifted up her new doll and smiled at him.

"She's so pretty, thank you again," she said softly.

The front door opened and Ella jumped to her feet. "It's Mama!" she cried. She raced to the woman in the doorway, and Rhett's eyes were drawn to her like a magnet. She hadn't noticed him yet, and he took the moment to observe her. Beautiful as ever, and she certainly did not appear to be pining away for him. Scarlett bent over and kissed her daughter's head, noted the new doll, and her green eyes searched the parlor, landing on him. Rhett noticed how her face softened, her eyes shone, and her lips curved upwards slightly.

Scarlett moved to him and Rhett got to his feet.

"It's good of you to come back," Scarlett said. "We've missed you."

Rhett's face was smooth, his eyes blank. But his mind was far from blank. Sincerity burned in her eyes. He knew her far too well to be deceived, and her eyes always gave her away. Something suspiciously like pleasure ran through him.

Scarlett looked into his black eyes and hers dimmed when she saw the total lack of emotion. Rhett felt an unexpected pang in his chest when he saw the happiness fade from her green eyes, and he saw sadness large enough to touch him.

"Will you be dining here this evening?" she asked, forcing herself not to burst into tears and throw her arms around him.

Rhett met her level gaze and admiration glinted before he shuttered his eyes. "Yes, I shall, my dear. I'd like to catch up on all the news of Atlanta."

She forced a smile on her face. "That will be nice. I'll go tell Cook."

He watched her walk away, her hips swaying delectably, and he cursed his traitorous body. Lust, love, desire, they always got twisted up where Scarlett was concerned. The nurse led the children away to prepare them for dinner and he was left alone in the parlor. His eyes skimmed the room, as if Bonnie would suddenly appear, dashing through the house whooping with laughter at something Pork or Mammy had said, giggling at Mr. Butler's behavior, or crying because she hadn't gotten her way, and wanted her daddy to take care of her. Rhett rubbed a hand over his eyes. All he wanted was to be Daddy again and fix things for her. But Bonnie was gone.

Scarlett quietly walked to the staircase, then stopped and turned to him.

"Dinner is at eight, as usual," she said before walking up the steps.

Rhett ached to brush her face, to feel the heat of her skin against his hand, but held back. Damn it, what was wrong with him? He no longer loved her. He felt some sort of obligation to her, naturally. They were married, and he would continue to financially support her and the children, quite generously, he added mentally. And they had been together, in some sort of fashion, for nearly thirteen years.

"_It seems we've been at cross purposes, doesn't it?"_

The words came back to him suddenly. Why the devil hadn't he spoken up? Why hadn't she spoken up? Because both were operating under the misconception that the other did not care. Rhett sighed and wandered to the dining room, located the wine, and poured himself a generous glass. He hated liars with a vengeance, and so couldn't lie to himself. He still cared about her. She had been the love of his life, and he did care for her.

"_My dear, I don't give a damn."_

That night, he hadn't, and he hadn't for many nights thereafter. But now, back in Atlanta, in their house, Rhett cared. No, he admitted with excruciating honesty, he had cared before returning. But caring and love were two very different emotions.

Rhett's eyes darkened as he replayed the few words she had spoken to him. She had been calm, polite, and genuinely glad to see him, but she had not screamed or demanded explanations as he had anticipated. Rhett swore and poured another glass. Scarlett without fire was like the world without air. Had he done this to her? Destroyed her spirit? He had always admired her courage, her fire, her determination, except when it was focused on Ashley Wilkes, and the thought that it was gone saddened him.

Scarlett summoned Lou to help her dress, selecting an attractive green silk dress which Rhett had never seen. Rhett always noticed her clothes, and would comment on them if he felt they were in poor taste. But perhaps not now, she thought, since he didn't care about her. This dress was not matronly, but not girlish, either, and she felt attractive for the first time in months. Dismissing Lou, Scarlett moved to her jewelry drawer, selecting modest gold earbobs. She glanced down at her wedding ring, the ring she removed only while bathing, and her eyes misted over. God, it was so large. She smiled, remembering how Rhett had grinned when he slipped it on her finger and her hand had nearly dropped under its weight.

_"The ring Rhett brought back from England was large indeed, so large it embarrassed Scarlett to wear it. She loved gaudy and expensive jewelry but she had an uneasy feeling that everyone was saying, with perfect truth, that this ring was vulgar. The central stone was a four-carat diamond and surrounding it were a number of emeralds. It reached to the knuckle of her finger and gave her hand the appearance of being weighed down. Scarlett had a suspicion that Rhett had gone to great pains to have it made up and, for pure meanness, had ordered it made as ostentatious as possible."_

Scarlett looked in the mirror, straightened her shoulders, and mentally braced herself for the coming encounter with Rhett. She wouldn't cry, beg, or make hateful remarks, no matter how provoked she became. She paused outside of Bonnie's door, then firmly opened it, checking to be sure the maid had dusted it today. Although Bonnie had slept in Rhett's room, she had her own bedroom, where her clothes and many toys were placed. She felt his presence behind her, heard his sudden intake of breath, and she turned to face him.

"Her room is cleaned every day, Rhett, and I just can't bring myself to move her things. We should decide what to do together." She had unconsciously laid her hand on his arm, and her sad eyes met his. There was something in her eyes, something so deeply bruised and painful, it broke his heart.

_"My dear, I don't give a damn."_

Rhett covered her hand with his. "We will, but not now. It's still too raw." He dropped his hand suddenly, and extended his arm. "Shall we, Mrs. Butler?"

Scarlett looked into his black eyes. They weren't teasing her or mocking her. He was being kind, escorting her to dinner like a gentleman. If he can be civil, she thought, then perhaps. She stopped the thought. All of the plans and schemes she had concocted the past six months fell away from her mind.

"_I can't live with a lie."_

She would not resort to that again. She had married Frank based on lies, lies that she loved him, lies that Suellen had made plans to marry Tony Fontaine, and then she had killed him by riding through Shantytown. Scarlett's eyes grew clear. She had not planned on lying to Rhett, but had seriously considered a campaign to win him back. Now she realized that was the wrong approach. She would be honest with Rhett. If all she could have from him was his respect, she would settle for that.

She was unaware of Rhett's scrutiny and the emotions which flickered in his eyes, so caught up was she in her thoughts.

Dinner passed pleasantly, the two acting like old friends meeting after a long time apart. Rhett revealed that he had in fact been in Charleston, found it peaceful and boring, as he had hoped, but, he admitted, he was not quite as ready for the quiet as he had thought.

"So Atlanta's not too raw, too new, after all?" Scarlett queried.

"Parts of it are. But I suppose what I was looking for wasn't in Charleston, or any other city, for that matter."

"No, she's not in any city," Scarlett agreed quietly.

Rhett met her startling green eyes, examined them carefully, and let out a sigh. "We both miss her, Scarlett." His tone was calm, quiet, then suddenly changed. "However, my dear, you seem to have an inexhaustible amount of strength within that small body. Your mother, your father, Mrs. Wilkes, Bonnie, all gone now, yet you soldier on, seemingly fine. Pray tell, how do you do it? The brandy bottle?"

Scarlett winced at the mockery in his voice, the jabbing and sparring apparent once more. Her brows drew together, and Rhett smiled inwardly. Yes, Scarlett still had fire. A banked fire, perhaps, but it was still there. Thank God.

"How you do run on," Scarlett remarked icily.

Rhett waited a few moments before commenting. "Tell me, darling, is it the brandy which fortifies you, comforts you?" A sparkle of definitely derisive amusement showed for a second in his eyes.

"Not anymore," she said sharply.

He raised an eyebrow.

"I drink wine with dinner, nothing else, as if it's any of your business." She scowled at him across the table, caught the laughter in his eyes, and her scowl grew deeper.

"Well, it's not, Rhett," she said petulantly, "you made that very clear six months ago."

"Would you satisfy my curiosity? Why this change?" He lounged in his chair, his posture casual, but his eyes were sharp.

I won't lie to him, Scarlett told herself. He'll know. "Right before I went to Tara, after you left, I got as drunk as Pa on court day. Drunker, I do believe, and after that, the thought of anything stronger than wine makes me ill."

Rhett's eyes sparked. "Really? That's probably for the best, Scarlett. Women who drink age faster. Did you know that? I learned that years ago from, well, it doesn't matter, but believe me, my darling, when you're forty and have been drinking for twenty years, you'll look sixty."

He grinned at her expression. "Now, now, you don't look old. I was merely making a point. Your vanity, Scarlett, is quite something to behold."

Her brows drew together again and a sharp retort was on the tip of her tongue when she suddenly laughed. It stunned Rhett and he firmly took control of his emotions.

"Excuse me, I believe I shall retire," Scarlett stated. She pushed her chair back before Rhett had an opportunity to assist her.

"No, not until you answer my question. How do you stand it? The deaths of nearly everyone you love?"

She sank back into her chair, her eyes locked with his. Never, in all the years she had known him, had Rhett Butler ever asked her such a serious question in a serious manner.

"Because I have to," she murmured. "I had to work on Tara, feed everyone, keep the taxes paid. Mother and Pa, well, I didn't really have time to grieve. There was always so much work to do. And Bonnie. I've not recovered from that, or from Melly. I have to go on because of Ella and Wade. But I don't grieve in public, which is why the old pea-hens always say I'm heartless. Maybe I am, in some ways, but I never, ever, will stop missing any of them. Ever." Scarlett dropped her eyes, then firmly raised them.

"Does that answer your question?"

"Not really. Because you have to. Does that mean I must bear Bonnie's death merely because I'm still alive?" There was sadness in his voice.

"Yes."

Her one word answer tore at him.

"Good night, Rhett." She rose and quickly walked to the stairs. Safely in her room, clad in her nightgown and wrapper, Scarlett turned down the lights and peered into the street, then cursed herself for a fool. If Rhett wanted to spend his first night in Atlanta with Belle Watling, there was nothing she could do to stop him. She wished could feel anger toward him, the killing rage of the O'Haras, but all she felt was love and sadness. She heard his footsteps in the hall and said a quick prayer of thanks. He wasn't going to Belle.

Rhett stopped outside her door, fighting with himself. God, how he wanted her. Her pale white soft skin beneath his, her small body which fit perfectly against his, but if he gave in to his carnal desires, he knew she would think it meant more, and he didn't want to hurt her anymore. He had meant what he said, about finding peace. And hurting his wife would not bring him peace.

"_My dear, I don't give a damn."_

But I do, he mocked himself as he let himself into his room.

Scarlett heard him walk away and fought the tears which threatened to overflow. Then she raised her chin. Rhett was here, in their house. And they had made it through an evening without cutting each other to shreds. As God is my witness, he'll respect me, even if he can't love me.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Rhett sat alone in his room, nursing a drink and staring out the large window which faced Peachtree Street. The past weeks had been sheer torture for him, he freely admitted, as his lust for his wife increased. In keeping with his promise to forestall gossip concerning their marriage and living arrangements, they had taken daily walks, dined out frequently, and had attended several gatherings at the homes of the Old Guard, including the Wilkes', where India had been cool but polite to them both.

Rhett had carefully studied his wife that evening and recognized the look in her eyes when she spoke with Ashley. It was the same one she wore when talking with Beau, Wade, or Ella. So she truly didn't love Ashley. He nearly laughed out loud. God, she'd been a fool, and so had Ashley. As had he, he confessed to himself.

Walking home from the Wilkes' had required all of his self-control not to take Scarlett there on the damp grass. Damn it all, she was temptation personified, and he was only human. He had studiously avoided Belle's, knowing the servants would hear about it, gleefully pass the information on to the Old Guard, and therefore all their efforts at respectability would be for naught. And Belle would not satisfy him, had never really satisfied him, except as a fleeting physical release, although she showered him with unequivocal acceptance and love when life with Scarlett was nearly intolerable.

Tonight after dinner, Scarlett had joined him in the parlor instead of immediately retiring as had been her custom since his arrival. Rhett lit a cigar and waited patiently for her to speak whatever was on her mind.

"Rhett, I have to say something to you, and I don't want you to make fun of me. I'm afraid you will leave and I won't have the chance to say what I have to say, and that will haunt me the rest of my life." Her eyes silently begged him.

"I, make fun of you? Scarlett, my pet, far be it for me to make fun of you." His black eyes snapped with an emotion she couldn't identify and his voice was once more the jeering one she had heard so frequently. At least, she thought with a flash of pleasure, he wasn't being totally impersonal.

Scarlett sounded as if she believed he would leave and never return, a thought which had frequently entered his mind, only to be discarded. He couldn't live the rest of life without seeing her.

"_My dear, I don't give a damn."_

What a liar you are, Rhett Butler, he admitted.

Refusing to rise to the bait, Scarlett took a deep breath. "I want to apologize for blaming you after Bonnie died. Rhett, it was an accident, a tragic accident, and I should never have said that you killed her. I'm very sorry. Remember what you said when you left? That I was a child because I said I was sorry? You were wrong."

"_You think by saying 'I'm sorry,' all the errors and hurts of years past can be remedied, obliterated from the mind, all the poison drawn from old wounds."_

His eyebrow went up in the sardonic crescent she knew so well, but Rhett remained silent.

"A child doesn't know what sorry really means. They haven't lived long enough to know pain and suffering or to have truly hurt someone they love. Pa, Pa would get mad at me and I'd say I was sorry, because I knew he would buy me a new frock or hat, but I didn't mean it. When I told you I was sorry, I meant it. I know that saying it doesn't fix everything, Rhett. I'm a fool, but not that big a fool. I am sorry for blaming you about Bonnie and for hurting you."

Something glittered in his eyes, then he drew his mask over them. As well as he knew her, this was something new - Scarlett, actually being introspective and struggling to put her thoughts into words. So brave, so gallant, and so afraid that he would mock her. The last thing he wanted to do now was mock her. He wanted to hold her and take away the pain in her eyes.

"I also owe you an apology, Scarlett, for what I said before you fell down the stairs."

He had never before mentioned it, never even hinted at it, and before her stark, unnerving soul-bearing, felt a strange need to be forthright and honest with her. For too many years, he had hidden his true feelings, and, he saw with a sudden, all-encompassing flash of insight, perhaps that had been the wrong way to approach his obstinate wife. Couldn't she see what she was doing to him? She was thawing his heart like sun after a winter's frost. Damn her.

"_Cheer up, maybe you'll have a miscarriage."_

Her eyes grew wide with surprise. They had never discussed it, any part of it, the words, the accident, the aftermath.

"I know you didn't mean it, Rhett," she said softly, "you love children."

"I was also referring to my ungentlemanly comment regarding the parentage of the child. That was not called for." Rhett watched her carefully, wishing he didn't feel lower than a snake's belly.

"_Well, who's the happy father? Ashley?"_

Her eyes grew dim and she dropped them to her lap. That had wounded her, deeply. She had been so happy about the baby, had wanted it so badly. He saw her straighten her back and then she lifted her eyes to his. Whatever she had to say was difficult, he could tell by the set of her shoulders. Her battle shoulders, he'd called them once.

"I wanted the baby. Very much. I'd missed you so, when you took Bonnie and left. I wanted our baby, Rhett."

His face went white and he moved quickly from his chair to sit next to her on the settee. "You wanted it? You said." Lines of grief suddenly appeared, etched around the corners of his mouth.

"I know what I said. It was a lie, to hurt you, because you hurt me. You never told me that you were glad to see me, and I wanted to hurt you," she stated in a sad voice.

"And when I was so sick, I wanted you, oh Rhett, I wanted you, but you didn't want me." The tears started and she was helpless to stop them. Please don't laugh at me, not now, when I'm finally telling you things I should have said long ago.

Rhett reached for his handkerchief and wiped her tear-streaked cheeks, then cupped her face between his hands.

"You wanted me? You didn't call for me." His voice was unnatural, even to his own ears.

"I thought I did," she said, "but I was delirious, I know. If I called you, Mammy and Melly didn't understand what I was saying. But you never came." Scarlett took a deep breath to regain her composure.

"_Rhett - I want Rhett."_

"Scarlett, darling, I thought you didn't want me, because you didn't ask for me." He had expected to see anger in her eyes, and he could have easily dealt with that, but he saw something far worse - anguish and pain.

"_There, there, Captain Butler, she's going to get well."_

If Scarlett had called his name, and Miss Melly heard it, she would have raced to get to him. Melly, who comforted him, who listened unbelievingly to his words about his marriage, Melly, who knew how much Scarlett loved him before Scarlett herself realized it.

He wiped her cheeks once more and looked into her damp green eyes. "Melanie would have come and told me, I know. So you must have been calling in your mind. You very nearly died, Scarlett." Rhett wrapped her in his arms. Dear God, it felt like coming home, holding her, feeling her breath against his chest. His heart tightened. It was coming home. Scarlett was his home.

He tipped her head to his and his lips met hers, gently, then more passionately. They tasted of tears and sadness and joy and love. Rhett broke the kiss and moved her onto his lap. His mind drifted back to their honeymoon in New Orleans. Many nights, he would sit smoking in a chair, Scarlett in his lap, her bare feet dangling beneath her wrapper, and they would talk, talk about everything, except their feelings for one another. He should have told her years ago how he felt. If she had held it over his head like a whip, considered him weak, as he had feared, it would still have hurt far less than the years of waiting for her to admit her love for him. The worst time had been her marriage to Frank Kennedy, watching her grow large with another man's child, the pain of it nearly killing him. After the scene in the jail, Rhett decided that as soon as he was freed, he would marry her, only to hear two weeks later from Belle that Scarlett had wed Frank. He had left Atlanta abruptly after swapping the horse she used to drive the buggy to the mills and not returned until after Ella's birth, unable to bear the thought of Scarlett in another man's arms and bed.

"_I cared so much I believe I would have killed Frank Kennedy if he hadn't died when he did."_

"Scarlett."

His breath was soft and warm on her neck.

"I'm glad you told me." Rhett lifted her face with his fingers. "Very glad." His words came gently, like a loving touch.

She managed a tremulous smile, although it looked a little forced. He wasn't teasing her, mocking her. He meant it, and suddenly her heavy load lightened a bit. She had told him how she felt and he could do with it what he chose.

"I was so afraid I'd wake up one morning and you'd be gone and then I couldn't tell you. I wanted to tell you in person, not in a letter. And when you leave, you probably won't tell me where you're going."

His stomach lurched. She thought he was leaving her again. And leaving without telling her. God damn it. She didn't trust him at all. And she was not crying and begging him to stay. She was not, as he had said six months ago, going to pursue him. And she didn't feel sorry for herself.

"_I see you are contemplating the transfer of your tempestuous affections from Ashley to me and I fear for my liberty and my peace of mind. No, Scarlett, I will not be pursued as the luckless Ashley was pursued."_

He caressed her cheek. Why should she chase after him? He had cheated on her, threatened to kill her when she told him Bonnie would be buried, insulted her, nearly killed her by causing her to fall down the stairs. Yet she had told him months ago that she loved him. Rhett's eyes grew dark and intense and he bored them into hers, as if trying to see into her mind. Scarlett was different, wounded in a way he had never seen, not even after the war, and seemed resigned to a life without him. Nevertheless, there was still love and the spark of her old fire in those green eyes. Love and hurt. He believed her, believed that she loved him, and despite his steadfast vow to remain immune to her, it soothed his heart, soothed it in a way he had not thought possible mere months before. When he had looked into her eyes then, he felt only pity, kindness and a dispassionate weariness. Now, he felt warmth and desire and. Surely not love.

"_My love for you wore out."_

"_You've never been very soothing, my dear."_

"Scarlett," he said lightly, "I have no intention of leaving for some time. My plans are, shall we say, tenuous."

He smiled at her puzzled expression. "I don't have any real plans, Scarlett, other than to stay in Atlanta for an indefinite period of time. I don't yet know how long, but it will be a fairly lengthy stay."

"Really, Rhett?" Her voice was childishly happy. "You're staying for awhile? Truly? You're not teasing me?"

"No, I'm not teasing you," he said softly. He kissed her lips gently and ran his hand through her black hair. "What would you like to do tomorrow, my pet?"

Startled at the abrupt change of subject, Scarlett stared at him, then smiled. "Take the children for a picnic."

"A picnic? Isn't it a bit cold?" He eyed her suspiciously.

"If it's too cold, we'll eat in a restaurant. Please, Rhett?"

A snide remark came into his head, one which he firmly and rapidly discarded. Scarlett's maternal instincts had at last been awakened, and he refused to ridicule her. Ella and Wade's happiness was important to him.

"A picnic," he sighed in agreement.

She impulsively threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. When she wrapped her arms around his neck, Rhett was sure he had never felt anything sweeter.

"Thank you. We'll have fun." Scarlett got to her feet and met his eyes.

"And thank you for staying longer." Her voice was soft.

"Will you tell me before you leave? So I can prepare the children." She paused. "And myself."

"Yes, I'll tell you."

His eyes held a strange gleam, one she couldn't place, one she didn't recall seeing before.

"Good night, Rhett."

She disappeared into the hallway. Rhett waited, giving her time to reach her room, then moved up to his, where he now sat, drinking and brooding, his eyes bleak. Her comments about saying she was sorry whirled in his brain like leaves on Peachtree Street in the fall. Scarlett, never analytical, nor introspective, had managed to make a valid, cogent point, and it had taken him by surprise.

"_You never see anything that isn't written in letters a foot high and then shoved under your nose."_

Yet she had. Scarlett, the most oblivious and insensitive person he had ever known, had neatly and tidily expressed her thoughts in a manner which now was causing his previous opinions of her to be revised. Damn it all, she was correct. A child would not know true sorrow. And to her credit, she did realize that the words alone would not, could not, erase the past.

Rhett swore silently, reached for the liquor decanter, then slammed it down on the table. She had managed to do it again, the green-eyed vixen. She had managed to crawl back under his skin and into his heart.

No, that was not true, and he knew it - he had never gotten her out of his heart. Despite all of his intentions and words to the contrary, Scarlett was in his soul and he loved her with a fierceness that frightened him. He needed her, he needed to absorb her the way a drought-stricken land needs water.

After the picnic with Wade and Ella came visits to the new ice cream parlor in town, more family outings, and many quiet afternoons alone at home when the children were at school. Rhett persuaded Scarlett that she was allowed to miss some of her meetings, pointing out that the ladies would understand, given his long absence. She blushed charmingly and Rhett kept a tight rein on his desire.

Scarlett rubbed her eyes and slammed the ledger closed. "I can't read anymore," she announced. "Hugh has the poorest writing I've ever seen. His ones look like sevens and some numbers, well, I'm not sure what they are. It makes a great deal of difference, you know, in the final tally."

Rhett quirked an eyebrow. He recalled a time when she would have tossed the heavy book across the room. A slam was quite an improvement.

"Tell me, my dear, why do you keep him on? You've complained about him for years."

She sighed and uncurled her legs, sitting upright and straightening her skirt. "Because he's Hugh, and a good man, and a member of the Old Guard. He's honest, and kind, and a terrible businessman."

Rhett laughed lightly. "Sounds as if you feel a spot of loyalty for him." His eyes met hers and she scowled at him.

"Yes, I do, and it annoys me, but the fact is, I've known him for years and years and his mother is a very powerful woman."

"Ah, the true motive comes out," he jested, but without malice. "And don't lie to me, Scarlett, I can take anything from you but a lie."

"I suppose it is loyalty," she admitted. "And I can usually fix anything major that he mixes up. The store suits him better than the mill did."

"And how are the mills? I know they were your babies." His tone was calm but his eyes gleamed.

"I suppose they're doing well. Ashley appears to be getting along, from what Beau tells me. Wade is spending the night there tonight. I'm sure it galls India, but Wade is Melly's blood, and Beau's cousin, and even India can't refuse Beau a thing."

"So you don't discuss business with Mr. Wilkes any longer?" Rhett knew the answer, but was curious to see if Scarlett would be forthright.

Her brows slanted together and her temper rose. "No, I don't," she responded frostily. "I promised Melly I would look after him, and I have, from a distance. Perhaps, later, I can ride out and truly check on things. I sold him those mills, now they're his responsibility, and I know you had something to do with it, Rhett, I just can't put my finger on what you did."

"I had help, my pet, help from Mrs. Wilkes. And that is all I am going to tell you."

Scarlett couldn't contain her shock. "Melly? God in heaven, how did Melly help you?"

"I told you, my darling, I won't say more." He laughed at her scowl, then got to his feet and moved to the window. "She was a very great lady," he said softly.

"Yes, she was," agreed Scarlett, her voice sad and tight with emotion she strained to control. "And I thank God every day that she never knew, never suspected how I felt about Ashley."

"It's to your credit that you finally appreciate her, my dear. Unfortunately, there are few like her, and I suspect we will never know another person, male or female, with her utter calmness, serenity, and loyalty."

"I know, Rhett, and it's another heavy cross for me to bear. That I thought so many bad things about her. But I'm trying to do better."

He sank into his chair again and looked into her eyes. "Why?"

Scarlett gaped at him. He didn't care, or so he had said. She took a deep breath.

"After you left, we went to Tara. Mammy sat me down and lectured me as she has never done in my life, worse than before we got married, when she called us mules in horse harness."

"Mammy," Rhett murmured. "All knowing Mammy."

"She told me that Mother and Melly are in heaven crying over me and that I won't see them again, ever, if I don't mend my ways. She said even a mule in horse harness can get to heaven if they live right. We talked about Ella and Wade, and how Mother would be so hurt by the way I've treated them. It scared me, Rhett, because I want to see them again, Mother, Pa, Melly, Bonnie." She fell silent and played with her wedding ring.

Rhett had noticed she still wore it and that had caught him off guard. He had half-way expected that she would have sold it to purchase more property for saloons.

"So you have rediscovered the teachings of your childhood?" His question was light but his eyes had darkened.

"Yes, I suppose I have," she agreed quietly. "At least some of them. I'm too far removed from the Church to be considered a good Catholic, and I know it. I loved Mother so, wanted to be just like her, and am as different from her as I can be. I always tried to be quiet and well-behaved around her."

"So unlike the real Scarlett," Rhett stated with a tiny hint of sarcasm. "You have far too much of the O'Hara blood running in your veins to be very quiet and well-behaved, my dear. But I have seen a change in you, and it is, quite frankly, surprising to me. And few things surprise me anymore, Scarlett."

He was now serious, talking with her in a civilized, non-malicious way, and it suddenly frightened her. It was very nearly the same tone he used that last, horrible night, when he left her. Left her for what she had been sure was forever, despite his words about returning. Had nothing changed? Her mind flew back to the kiss. Surely he wouldn't have kissed her like that unless he cared. But there had been no more kisses, except for chaste pecks on her cheek or forehead. Belle Watling suddenly entered her mind, and she cringed. Rhett enjoyed women, and his statement about other beds had never left her mind.

"I surprised you?" she asked, her eyes puzzled. "But you've always known what I was thinking, even the night you left me."

"I do possess an uncanny ability to read your mind, I admit, Scarlett, because we are so much alike. However," he continued in the same smooth tone, "even a scoundrel like you or me is capable of change. I doubt, however, that I will change. I am too old and too tired. But you, my pet, you have years and years ahead of you, and that allows you the convenience of time to change."

Rhett's posture was relaxed, his voice even and passionless, and Scarlett felt a deep despair cloak her, like the fog of her recurring nightmare, a nightmare which had returned with a vengeance after the loss of her child, her sister-in-law, and her husband.

Years ahead of her, empty, lonely years, without Rhett. Why was he staying so long? She had expected him to leave as quickly as possible after putting in appearances at some local functions, yet he was still here, after two months, driving her to distraction with his changeable personality.

One minute he would be kind and caring, the next baiting her until she lost her temper, or teasing her affectionately, but no longer maliciously. It was very close to their relationship prior to Bonnie's birth. Before, she had dismissed his behavior as Rhett being Rhett, and never given it a serious thought. Now, in the harsh light of his departure, she struggled to understand him.

"_My dear, I don't give a damn."_

Her green eyes lit up. He did give a damn. That was why he was acting so similar to the Rhett of six years ago. But he was still afraid to admit it, although for the life of her, Scarlett couldn't see why. She had admitted her love for him, had told him how much she had missed him, had confessed how badly she had wanted the lost child, forgiven him for his cruel comments. Was he still fearful that she would consider him weak? Dear God, love doesn't make a person weak, it makes them stronger.

Rhett smiled at her. "I can tell an idea has just entered that conniving brain of yours. What, pray tell, is it? A new way to impress the dowagers?"

"No," she answered honestly. Great balls of fire, if it cost her Rhett's presence, she would tell him the truth. "It occurred to me that you do care about me, despite your words when you left me. And I'm not conniving to get you to stay, Rhett. You would know, and not respect me. And I want your respect."

Rhett's eyes glowed, then he rapidly brought his emotions under control. God damn her, she had finally learned to read him.

"Well, my darling, of course, I do care about you as one cares about any obligation," he stated casually. "I shall provide for you and the children handsomely, appear often enough to prevent Wade and Ella's reputation from being tarnished, and when I am here, will behave in a civilized manner. You are, after all, still my wife, albeit in name only, and I was raised to be a gentleman, something which sadly for my parents, did not occur, yet there remains a trace of my childhood teachings within me, as there is in you."

His eyes watched her closely, gauging her reaction.

Scarlett wanted to scream that they belonged together, curse him for being so remote, but knew that if she did, any chance of securing his respect would be lost to her forever.

"I understand," she eventually whispered. Scarlett got to her feet, the ledger forgotten. She looked down into the black eyes and before she realized it, the words were out.

"I love you, Rhett, and I know you don't love me, and that's the heaviest load I've ever had to carry. Worse than losing Bonnie, worse than losing Melly or my parents, because I finally realized how much I've leaned on you over the years. I admit defeat, Rhett." Scarlett laughed, and it tore at him. Her tight, sarcastic bark sounded like his. "You've won, and I've lost. Which is the way you wanted it all along, I suspect."

Rhett watched her leave and sighed heavily. What was holding him back? She had once more admitted her love. He gazed at an invisible spot on the wall. Was it Bonnie? They had never grieved together, never even talked about her until Scarlett had apologized for saying he had killed her. But he had killed her, as surely as if he had broken her sweet, tiny neck himself. He should have trusted his instincts, that Mr. Butler was not able to jump that high, but his beloved daughter had begged and pleaded, and, as always, he wanted to please her. And by doing so, had lost her forever.

_"I'll not risk my heart a third time."_

Scarlett herself was not making the situation easy. If she would only throw one of her famous tantrums, he could laugh and jeer, and not take her seriously. She still had her temper and was not afraid to show it to him, but the screaming, white-raged tantrums of years past had yet to appear. Her defeated acceptance of the state of their marriage was excruciatingly difficult for him to witness, because she was rational and calm, two words he had never before associated with Scarlett O'Hara.

And he did love her. What he felt was far deeper, more profound than caring. It was love, and he had unconsciously fallen back into his familiar pattern of hiding his emotions. He gazed at the doorway.

"_I couldn't live with you and lie to you and I certainly couldn't lie to myself. I can't even lie to you now."_

So what are you doing, he mocked himself. Certainly not being honest. Rhett got to his feet and hurried into the hallway after his wife.

"Scarlett."

She stopped, her hand on the banister, and turned to look at him. Her old scowl appeared. "If you want to hurt me more, just save your damned breath."

"My dear, come here." Rhett moved a step closer to her.

"Why?" Her tone was suspicious.

"I said come here." He moved another step and reached for her, grasping her arms. "Explain what you mean, that I've won."

Scarlett's scowl deepened and she tried to pull away, but he was too strong.

"You've managed to hurt me far worse than I ever hurt you."

His eyes gleamed briefly before the blank look appeared.

"And how did I manage that Herculean feat?" he asked in a silky tone.

"What?" she asked, puzzled by his words.

Rhett laughed lightly. "How did I hurt you more than you hurt me?"

"Because I'll have to live the rest of my life knowing you don't love me, many, many years, while your love for me is gone."

His hold on her arms tightened and he saw her wince. Letting his grip loosen, Rhett's eyes held hers. "Ah, now I understand," he stated smoothly. "How does it feel, my dear, to have your love trampled on like so much dirt?"

Scarlett gasped. He was talking about his feelings, not hers. "It feels like death. Does that make you happy?" she questioned with sincere malice.

"No."

He pulled her closer, and she melted against him, warmer and sweeter than he remembered. Rhett cradled her face in his hands, guiding her mouth to his. She felt as limp as a rag doll, and wrapped her arms around his neck to prevent herself from falling. His lips were insistent yet gentle, caressing hers slowly, then his lips traveled down the length of her neck.

As he once more met her lips, he wondered idly whose salty tears he was tasting.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

He released her and his black eyes gleamed with passion and something else Scarlett hoped was love.

"Get changed, my pet, I am taking you to dinner," he said, kissing her lightly on the forehead.

Scarlett stared at him, attempting to read his expression. It was not quite the old teasing look of years past, although there was a slightly laughing look in his eyes. Afraid to speak for fear her voice would crack with tears, she nodded and hurried up the steps.

Rhett watched her, his hands clenched into fists. Damn it to hell. He had sworn he would keep his distance, despite his admission to himself that he still loved her. There were too many bad memories, too much pain, too many cruelties.

_"What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived."_

He wandered to the brandy and poured himself a generous drink, then sat brooding in one of the high backed chairs. Was that true? Or was it possible to mend their marriage? Certainly no other woman had ever bewitched him the way Scarlett had, none had ever elicited such strong love and frustration from him as she. Rhett tossed back the brandy, and the warmth of it calmed him. Scarlett's lips had tasted as sweet as the first time he'd kissed her, on the road to Rough and Ready, before he left her to join the army. He had told her then that he loved her, asked her to reconsider being his mistress, and gotten slapped for his pains.

"_For I do love you, Scarlett."_

He recalled the night their lost child was conceived, how she had quickly surrendered and responded to his bruising lips and hands. With a sudden flash of insight, Rhett recognized that was the turning point - and he had left the next morning, fool that he was. Fear of her reaction had driven him away. He should have stayed and never left her bed until she confessed her feelings, should have caressed her and kissed her and yes, bruised her, until there was only passion and love in her heart and mind, banishing Ashley Wilkes from her soul, until only the two of them shared the bed.

_"We could have been happy, for I loved you and I know you, Scarlett, down to your bones, in a way that Ashley could never know you."_

And I still do, he added silently. But would love be enough to salvage what remained of their life together? Rhett heaved a deep sigh and got to his feet. As he passed her door, he paused, then opened it quietly. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her.

Scarlett was seated at her dressing table, the green hat which he had brought from Paris during the war perched saucily on her head, the ribbons tied under her chin. Even from across the room, he could see the faint film of tears in her eyes and he moved to her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"You kept it." He was unable to keep the surprise from his voice.

"Yes, I did. It's so beautiful, Rhett, too pretty to throw away, and it's special to me." Scarlett untied the ribbons and removed it from her black hair.

Rhett met her eyes in the mirror. "You took it with you when you left Atlanta?" he asked incredulously, too shocked to conceal his emotions.

"No, it was at Aunt Pitty's, and survived, and I saved it." She dropped her eyes. "That should have told me how much I cared about you, Rhett. Keeping a bonnet from you, when I was married to Frank." Scarlett turned on the chair and tipped her head slightly to look at him. His eyes glowed, she saw, glowed with something. Was it happiness? Love? She smiled up at him.

"Now run along and let me get dressed," she said lightly.

Rhett bent down and kissed her red lips, felt her tremble, and quickly moved away.

"I never suspected you were so sentimental, my darling."

He hesitated in the doorway, then looked into her green eyes once more before he turned toward his room, lost in regrets.

The restaurant was nearly empty of diners, the Carpetbaggers, the only people with money, having left town when the Democrats swept back into control after the last elections. The improving finances of some of Atlanta's residents allowed them the luxury of an evening out on special occasions, but as a rule, Scarlett and Rhett were one of only a few couples who regularly frequented the establishment.

Rhett deliberately kept the conversation light, regaling his wife with tales of life in Charleston, his snide observations regarding many of the staid residents of that city, and watched her relax and laugh with genuine pleasure. Over dessert, Rhett raised his eyes to hers and Scarlett was taken aback by the dark seriousness in them. A shivering sense of foreboding settled in the pit of her stomach. Please God, don't let him tell me that he's leaving. Please let him stay.

"Scarlett," he drawled, "being away has given me the opportunity to stand back and examine you clearly. Then my return to this fair city had permitted me to observe you some more."

Scarlett felt fear creep up her spine, like an icy finger. Dread filled her, threatening to cut off her breath.

"Now, my dear, there's no reason to look frightened. I've known you a long time, and have seen how you've survived, how you've twisted fate to your own ends. I admire it, admire the way you refuse to capitulate even when faced with almost certain defeat. When I first met you, you were so young, so innocent, and it occurred to me that I never really knew what caused the transformation from that spoiled little belle to the shrewd businesswoman you became, other than the all encompassing excuse of the war. So, I beg of you, enlighten me." He sat back in chair and examined her with quiet intensity.

Scarlett looked at him, uncomprehending, and he smiled.

"What made you change so much, Scarlett, and so quickly? Can you pinpoint it? Tell me what hardened you?"

She examined his face and knew that for some reason, he truly was interested in hearing her answer. He hadn't said it with malice, upbraiding her for changing. He knew, better than anyone, the load she had carried after the war, the hunger, the worry of feeding her family. She dropped her eyes and thought back over the years. When had she begun to change?

"It started when you left us on the way to Tara, when we escaped Atlanta," she said softly. "I was the only one who could get us home, and I did what I had to do."

Rhett drew a breath, not because of what she said, but the manner in which she uttered the words. There was no anger, no malice. She had hated him then for leaving her.

"Then we got home, Mother was dead, Pa was not himself, everything was gone, the Yankees had taken it all. And when I killed that Yankee, well, that was another thing which didn't bother me the way it should have. I've told you about how hard it was at Tara, feeding all of us, then they raised the taxes." She stopped and lifted her eyes to his. The compassion in them made hers sting.

"But I think the thing which changed me the most was when I decided I would become your mistress if you paid the taxes on Tara. I gambled everything and lost. Lost my self-respect, my pride, and would have lost Tara if Frank hadn't given me a ride to Aunt Pitty's after I left the jail."

She spoke in a monotone, as if it had happened to another person, as it had, Rhett thought sadly. Her offer to him at the jail had shown him how desperate she was, how much Tara meant to her, and, despite her complaints about the many mouths to feed, demonstrated her loyalty to family. So that was how she came to marry Frank - a chance meeting in Atlanta. And if he had told her that he could get her the money, she would never have become Mrs. Kennedy. On the day she accepted his marriage proposal, Scarlett confessed that she lied to Frank about Suellen marrying Tony Fontaine, but until now, he'd never known fate stepped in and cut out his heart. The irony of it tore at him. Frank Kennedy had been at the right place at the right time for her, and Scarlett pounced.

"I wouldn't have made you my mistress," he said quietly and without a trace of sarcasm. "I would have married you."

"I realized that the night you left me," Scarlett stated. "But I would have done it, done it to keep Tara."

Their eyes held, then Scarlett, flustered by his scrutiny, reached for her coffee cup.

"Does that answer your question?" she queried with a flash of temper. Even now, the memory of her humiliation at his hands burned. She was no longer angry with him, but with herself, for debasing herself, for going so far from the teachings of her religion and her mother.

"Yes, it does." His answer was soft. "But you survived, Scarlett, and prospered. Was it worth it?"

"Yes." Her answer was instantaneous and definite. "Yes, because of Tara."

"Your Irish is showing, my dear," he laughed, but without malice. "I suspect that had the war not come, you would have chafed at the restraints of life, at the routines and the old ways. Probably you would have had a sense that something was missing from your life, but you would never had known what it was."

"Great balls of fire, Rhett, how you can you think I'd miss nearly starving to death and picking cotton?" Scarlett's brows came together and he laughed again.

"You are so literal, Scarlett. I meant that you thrive on challenges, and there were so very few challenges in the old days."

"We can't look back, it hurts too much," she whispered. "Don't look back, Rhett."

He leaned his arms on the table and reached for her hands. "I'm not, Scarlett, I'm trying to make sense of my life. And no matter where I go or what I do, you, my love, are a very large part of my life. So you see, I must understand you better in order to find peace. I thought I knew you completely, down to your bones, but these past months have caused me to question that. I've compared the girl who broke that vase at Twelve Oaks with this successful woman seated before me, and marveled at the difference."

Where I go. Scarlett's fear rose higher, as she contemplated the thought of his departure. He had stayed far longer than she had thought he would, and at any second, she expected to turn around and find him gone.

Before she had the opportunity to reply, Rhett pulled her to her feet, threw some bills on the table, and led her to the door. As he helped her into the buggy, his hands lingered on her longer than was proper and she felt her skin burn, even through the many layers of fabric. He jumped in lightly and her arm went through his.

"I was afraid you were going to tell me that you were leaving," she admitted with a slight smile of deprecation.

"Would you be unhappy?" he asked, then berated himself for shamelessly seeking affirmation. He was too old for this, he told himself again, too old to start over. But it felt so good to have her sitting next to him.

"Very unhappy," she whispered before leaning her head against his arm.

She looked up at his face, and mentally sighed when she recognized the all too familiar blank expression.

The night he had left, taking her soul with him, she had seen him, really seen him, for the first time in years. His face was puffy from the vast amounts of alcohol he consumed, his waist was thickening, and he was showing his age. Since his return, she knew he had been drinking less, and more of his striking good looks were evident. Scarlett had never seriously considered their age difference before that awful, last night, never realized with any conscious thought that her mother and Rhett were contemporaries, for Rhett Butler was, in her mind, ageless. He would always be the dashing blockade runner who squired her about Atlanta during the war, the man who drew admiring feminine glances during their New Orleans honeymoon.

Her mind, never used for analyzing anything more obtuse than a column of figures, struggled to reach understanding. Rhett wanted peace, comfort, but not the quiet dullness of Charleston. If he could find what he sought here in Atlanta, Scarlett hoped, he might stay. He had been sincerely kind and affectionate with both Ella and Wade, spending hours with her son, talking with him. Wade, nearly twelve, had always been very fond of Rhett, and had now developed a case of hero worship the likes of which Scarlett had never seen. Rhett could do no wrong in Wade's eyes, and to his credit, Rhett went out of his way not to change Wade's opinion. His patience with Ella was amazing to watch, as she flitted from one topic to another in conversations with him. Scarlett recalled her thoughts at Ella's birth, that she looked like a monkey, and cringed. Ella was her daughter, her flesh and blood, and Scarlett's cruel assessment ate at her. Ella had, to Scarlett's relief, developed into a pretty child, not beautiful and vivacious as Bonnie had been, but Ella definitely showed her Robillard heritage. Rhett arranged to spend time alone with her, taking her for ice cream or shopping at one of the new stores which had sprung up in Atlanta during the Carpetbaggers' reign, and seemed genuinely pleased to do so.

If only their baby had lived, Scarlett thought with grief. The only pregnancy she had ever welcomed, and the child died before it ever took a breath.

Rhett glanced down at her. "You appear lost in thought," he remarked, guiding the buggy toward their house.

"I was thinking about the children, all of them," Scarlett answered honestly.

"All?" he repeated. It was hard to say her name. "Bonnie?"

"Yes, and the baby we lost. And I was thinking how kind you've been to Ella and Wade, and how grateful I am for that, Rhett. They missed you so."

The baby we lost. He knew she hadn't said it to cause him more pain, yet it felt as if she had unwittingly taken a knife to him and carved out his heart, leaving him bleeding and mortally wounded. The child he had killed, killed by his cruel words to Scarlett, goading her, insulting her, and very nearly killing her, as well. He pictured her, lying at the bottom of the stairs, and controlled his shudder.

Rhett didn't respond, and they rode the rest of the way home in silence, Scarlett resting her head on his arm, and Rhett once more felt his blood heat at the feel of her next to him. By God, they were still married, and he had the right to claim that tempting body. But he knew if he did, he would be lost forever, never able to leave her, bound to her by invisible ropes. It had been so many years since he had known the sweet warmth and comfort of her, years in which he sought out Belle. But Belle's unconditional love had never been enough to erase the picture of Scarlett lying beneath him on white sheets, smiling at him, laughing with him over some comment, pretending outraged modesty when he spoke honestly of physical relations.

He escorted her into the parlor, and tossed his hat and coat onto the table. "Drink?"

"No, thank you, I'll retire." She looked into his dark eyes and love leaped into hers. Rhett was looking at her, his face tender, his eyes glinting. They stood silently, a force whirling between them and around them, a force against which both were helpless.

He moved to her and took her in his arms, kissing her passionately. He felt her tremble, then her lips responded. His mouth gentled on hers, then his lips moved over her face, to the length of her neck and back again to her mouth.

"I love you, Scarlett," he said, cupping her face between his hands. "God help me, I love you."

Her green eyes were stunned but full of love. The look on her face took his breath away. It was soft, loving, and the beginnings of passion were creeping into her eyes.

"I love you, Rhett," she finally stated. "I love you so very much."

He swept her into his arms, and carried her up the stairs, his blood pounding, his heart racing. Never had he wanted her so badly, not that night their lost child had been conceived, not the nights before she had banished him from her bed. This was different, tonight would be different. She loved him, he felt it in his soul, knew it in his head and heart. And he loved her. He stood her on her feet and slowly began undressing her. Scarlett moaned as his lips touched every inch of her pale skin as it was exposed, grasping at the bed post for support. Somehow she was on the bed, and he was leaning over her, kissing her.

"Rhett," she murmured. "Rhett."

"Shh, my love," came the soft reply. "We have time. All the time in the world."

He slipped her undergarments from her and rose on his arms, examining her frankly. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Scarlett opened her eyes and blushed under his studious gaze. Rhett grinned at her, then threw his clothes onto the floor. He wrapped her in his arms and, as he had foretold, was lost. He couldn't have stopped himself if he had tried.

Scarlett let her head fall back against the thick down pillows, allowing Rhett to take her where there was only feeling and emotion and soft, warm darkness. His hands and lips were everywhere. He was a whirlwind, sweeping her away, leaving her breathless, weak, and clinging to him. She moaned, wanting this man she loved. His touch was possessive and tender and left no doubt that she was his, that she belonged to him.

_"The most exciting thing about him was that even in his outbursts of passion which were sometimes flavored with cruelty, sometimes with irritating amusement, he seemed always to be holding himself under restraint, always riding his emotions with a curb bit."_

Not tonight. Tonight he held none of his love back, and it was given without cruelty or amusement, and Scarlett felt it, felt it deep within her soul. He reached into her heart and filled it with all the love he had hidden for so long, and she marveled at the way her shattered heart healed.

"I want you. I love you." She was shocked to hear the words come from her mouth. She ought to be embarrassed, admitting such a thing, but when she saw how he met her love-filled eyes, she knew she had, for once in her life, said the right thing to him. She smiled and ran her hand through his graying hair. Still so handsome. She saw love and desire in his black eyes, and something that looked like understanding, and when he smiled back, knew he had seen it in hers.

They met and loved with a giving and taking which neither one had ever experienced. Both were selfless, aching to love and comfort the other, knowing they could not erase the past, but cognizant that they could construct a new future. Afterward, they lay nestled together, knowing that finally they had found and shared the completeness both had desperately sought for so long.

Rhett looked into her eyes, full of love and wonder, and knew she felt the same searing pleasure and contentment he experienced, feelings which should have been shared years before, prevented by the obstinate pride both harbored in such vast quantities.

"Scarlett, do you know what the difference is?" Rhett's voice was soft and low in her ear, his breath warm and sensual.

She tilted her head to see him more clearly. He wasn't teasing, mocking, or jeering. Rhett's countenance was calm, peaceful, and his eyes glowed with love.

"Yes," she whispered, reaching a hand to his face. "It's love." She leaned up and sealed his lips with a passion which rocked him.

He lifted his lips a fraction. "I love you, Scarlett." Rhett kissed her so deeply, so sweetly, and with such heartfelt emotion, Scarlett couldn't stifle a muffled cry of joy. He loved her. Rhett loved her. Tears fell from her eyes and he pulled back, cradling her head between his hands, and wiping her face with the edge of the sheet.

He drew her more tightly to him, stroking her arm, until he felt her body relax completely and knew she was asleep. Rhett stared at her, so small, so defenseless now. She was still a child in many ways, and, he suspected, always would be. Gerald O'Hara had spoiled his favorite daughter, Mammy and Ellen taught her that she could have anything she wanted if she said and did thus and so, and he had given her free rein in their marriage.

Her observations since his return had at first shocked him, then impressed him. She had, finally, viewed him as a person, complete with emotions, and from the depths of her despair had learned to understand him. Rhett's eyes grew tender as he glanced down at his wife, covered only by a sheet and his arms.

"_My love for you wore out."_

And he thought it had. But by the action of returning to Atlanta and Scarlett, he had proven to himself just how incorrect that statement was. They loved each other and they belonged together.

_"I was never one to patiently pick up broken fragments and glue them together and tell myself that the mended whole was as good as new. What is broken is broken - and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it and see the broken places as long as I lived."_

Maybe the mended whole wouldn't be as good as new, but he had to find out, had to try, had to risk his heart once more. It might actually prove to be better, since the two of them had been at cross purposes for so many years. A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth. They were no longer at cross purposes, but were finally, totally one.

Rhett's small smile became a grin as the truth suddenly invaded his brain. What had been broken had never been complete at all, hadn't been complete because neither one admitted their love, so there was nothing to mend. Suddenly his life, which had appeared so black and dark only a few months before, was full of light and love and happiness and peace. Rhett leaned over and kissed her swollen lips.

"I love you, Scarlett," he whispered in her ear. He settled her more comfortably on his chest and allowed himself to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Scarlett stretched like a cat and reached for him. Feeling only empty space, she quickly sat up, fear invading her like water rushing in an overflowing stream. Scanning the room, she was sure she would faint. Rhett was gone, and her heart nearly stopped. After the most wonderful night of her life, after he had told her over and over that he loved her, and she had done the same, he was gone. She felt tears form and violently wiped them away, then collapsed face down on her pillow, sobbing with a grief so fierce she was sure she would die.

The door opened and Rhett's stomach knotted when he heard her. Quickly setting the breakfast tray on a small side table, he moved to the bed and grasped her tightly in his arms.

"Rhett!" she wailed. "I thought you'd left me again. I was so scared." Scarlett threw his arms around his neck and her tears fell on him.

Despite the guilt over unintentionally causing her pain, a feeling of happiness engulfed him. She did love him, need him, want him. For so many years, he had dreamed of this, and now his dream was weeping on his shoulder. The realization that his dream had at long last come true brought with it a peace and contentment which he had long ago abandoned all hopes of attaining.

"Scarlett, darling," he soothed her, "I'm never leaving you. You are going to have to contend with me for many years to come. I won't ever leave you, unless it's business, and perhaps not even then. There are many places I'd love to show you, my pet. Places with lots of stores and ways to spend money. I'm never going to leave you."

She sniffled and looked at him. Rhett smiled. She was still a child in many ways, and it gave him infinite pleasure to make her happy.

"You really won't leave?" He heard the trace of doubt in her voice.

"No, my love, never. Once you become accustomed to having me here all the time, you'll believe me."

He stroked her tangled hair. "And there is another point which needs addressing." Rhett's eyes grew more serious.

"I've been with many women in my life. Too many." He saw the pain in her eyes and felt her tense. "Scarlett, hear me out. Those days are over." His eyes refused to let hers drop.

"No other women, no other beds." His lips met hers in a gentle, cherishing kiss.

"You won't see her anymore?"

"No, I won't," he promised. He studied her tear-streaked face, searching for a sign that she believed him. "Can you believe me?"

Scarlett searched his face as intently as he had hers, then nodded. "Yes, I believe you." She rested her head on his chest, allowing his strength to seep into her. She felt his hands caress her body under the sheet which covered her and she trembled.

Rhett lifted her face to his and once more they were lost in the oneness of the two of them.

Rhett took her to New Orleans for their honeymoon, as he called it, stating that the first one, although enjoyable, had been missing something - love. As before, they ate, danced, and played with a vengeance, only this time, both felt a completeness and joy which at times left them speechless.

Scarlett noted the way other women cast surreptious glances at her husband, and it warmed her. He was still the most handsome man she knew, and was charming, polite, and oh, so ardent in his affections with her. Frequently, she would lift her eyes and find him watching her, not with the familiar cat at the mouse hole look of previous years, but with a look of primitive male possession and passionate love. Rhett was hers, truly hers, and she loved him with her entire being.

He did not look like other men, and never had. Not even a black evening coat and elegant shirt could hide the faint hint of wildness which clung to him. Wherever he went, he immediately became the center of attention, and Scarlett wondered if he was aware of that. Perhaps he had become accustomed to it over the years. He had always, ever since she'd met him, been a man set apart - slightly dangerous and wicked, not a gentleman. And the man she would love to her dying day, no, past that, eternally.

His lovemaking was different, gentle, tender, almost reverent. Rhett had, she realized, always been a considerate lover, but now treated her with total selflessness. He broke through the last of her inhibitions, and she reveled in her own brazenness and passionate responses. Nothing, Scarlett decided, nothing was wrong or immoral about making love with her own husband, and he took her to places she had never even known existed.

One night, as Scarlett lay in his arms, she heard him sigh and turned to look at him. He saw her questioning look and a gentle smile crossed his face, a smile Scarlett had seen when he was speaking with Bonnie, but never with her, until he had come back into her life.

"My darling," he paused and kissed her, "I was just thinking. And I fear you'll show me your famous temper, so shall hold my tongue."

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett," she protested, a frown appearing on her face. "You should tell me."

He studied her seriously, unsure if she truly wanted to hear what had crossed his mind. Reassured by the determined look on her face, he relented.

"Very well, but if it hurts your feelings, pray remember I advised against it. I was merely recalling our first honeymoon, when there were three of us in a bed. This is so much nicer, Scarlett, just the two of us." His lips met hers lightly, then he pulled back, searching her eyes. They were pain-filled but dry.

"It is so much better, Rhett," she murmured. "I was such a fool. And I know I can't make it up to you. But can I try?"

Rhett's eyes darkened with desire as his wife crawled on top of him.

The anniversary of Bonnie's death hung over the large house like a dark cloud. Even Wade and Ella were subdued. Rhett was quiet all day, barely speaking to anyone, and Scarlett allowed him to grieve alone. After dinner, he pulled her to her feet and embraced her.

"It's hard to believe," he murmured into her hair.

She nodded, the tears she had stubbornly held at bay threatening to erupt. Rhett wrapped an arm around her waist and led her upstairs to Bonnie's room.

"We never decided what to do," he remarked, his eyes flitting over the furniture and toys. "I'd like to leave it as it is." He turned to face Scarlett, his eyes full of pain.

"Yes, so would I." Scarlett watched as he moved to an overflowing shelf of dolls, then walked quietly to his side.

"Rhett, what would you think about using Bonnie's baby clothes if our child is a girl?" Her voice was soft.

He turned to her and grasped her arms, surprise and awe clearly evident on his face. "A baby? Scarlett, are you sure?"

"Yes. I went to see Dr. Carter a few days ago, the doctor who took over for Dr. Meade when he retired. We'll be parents in seven months, Rhett." Scarlett looked up at him and smiled.

He pulled her to him, then swept her into his arms and sat in the rocking chair. "Are you all right?" His voice was hoarse. "After your miscarriage, I didn't think you'd be able to have any more children."

Scarlett stroked his face. "Dr. Carter says I'm fine, and he feels sure I can carry the baby to term. There's a risk." She saw his face pale. "Rhett, there's a risk with any baby. I just have to be a little more cautious."

Rhett's eyes dampened but he made no effort to hide the fact from her. Dear God, a baby. He had hoped, but recalled Dr. Meade's words after her fall - that it would be unlikely she could have another child, and the knowledge had eaten at him.

"Scarlett, my love, you will do nothing for the next seven months," he pronounced, his voice still unnaturally tight. "You will lift nothing heavier than a fork, stay away from the stairs unless one of the servants or I are with you, no more wine, no dances."

"No dances?" she wailed. "The doctor never mentioned that. I can go to dances for another month or so."

"No." He saw her brows draw together in the familiar scowl. "I mean it, Scarlett, if I have to chain you to me for the next seven months, we will have this baby." He kissed her gently, then more passionately. He suddenly pulled back when he felt her response. "We can't."

Scarlett's eyes were loving and sensual. "Oh yes, we can. Dr. Carter said so. As long as I feel well. And I feel wonderful." She wrapped her arms around him. "I feel absolutely wonderful."

He led her to their room, where he showed her exactly how happy he was. Afterward, as she lay drowsily in his arms, he thought his heart would burst with joy, then he felt guilty, recalling Bonnie. Somehow, the news of a child on this particular day eased his grief. They would always hold Bonnie in their hearts, but the prospect of a new life, a child of his and Scarlett's, smoothed some of the sharp edges of pain.

"Telling me today was good, I think," he mused. "We loved her, and we'll love this child. It's ironic, that our happiness overlays such sadness. You deliberately waited until today, didn't you, my love?"

"Yes," Scarlett murmured.

Her answer filled him with joy. Scarlett had realized how difficult this day would be for him, and had chosen to tell him of the new life they created at this nearly intolerable time. Once more, she had demonstrated what he once thought was impossible - placing another person above herself.

"She'd want us to use her baby clothes," Rhett stated quietly. "If it's a girl. We need to decide on names."

Scarlett laughed and tipped her head to him. "We have lots of time to do that."

"Have you thought of any?" Rhett asked.

She hesitated. "For a girl, yes. Melanie."

Rhett stroked her back and nodded. "I think that's perfect. And a boy?"

"Rhett Butler, Junior."

"God in heaven, no," he erupted. "No. Absolutely not."

Scarlett sat up and stared at him. "Why, what's the matter?"

"Scarlett, you know as well as I that I'm not received in many places, and I refuse to have our son shackled by my mistakes." His eyes flashed. "You'll have to think of something else."

Rhett was as good as his word, hovering like a mother hen, Scarlett thought with happiness. She would only have to lift her eyes from her sewing and he would spring to her side.

"Rhett," she sighed, "you're driving me to distraction. The baby won't be here for four more months, and you've barely let me bathe in privacy since I told you."

He grinned down at her. "As I said, my pet, we are having this child. And we still need a name for a boy."

"I have no preference," Scarlett stated with a pretty pout, "since you are so adamant about not naming him after you. It's your decision."

"Fine. Daniel Gerald. Your father's name should stay in the family."

Scarlett turned it over in her mind, then smiled. "Daniel Gerald Butler it will be. Why Daniel?"

"Because, to my knowledge, neither of us has a relative named Daniel. And it's a good, strong name. I won't name a child for my father, so a name unconnected with either family is the best choice."

"I like it. But I think we're having a girl, Rhett."

She set her sewing aside and reached a hand to him. Rhett helped her upstairs, lounging in a chair while she was in the bath. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He had endured such pain, loving Scarlett, but now, loving her caused his heart and soul to overflow with happiness. Returning to her had been one of the most difficult things he had ever done, and it had transformed his life. After all the twists and turns and brick walls, they had found their way to one another, and created another child from their love. The greatest gift in life was to love and be loved. It was that simple, and that complicated.

Rhett helped her into bed, then crawled next to her. He rubbed her distended abdomen gently, then rested his head against their child. It had become a nightly ritual, one which never failed to move Scarlett to tears. Rhett loved this child so much, as she did, and she willingly endured the boredom and confinement in order for their baby to be born healthy. She had experienced no problems and Dr. Carter was more than pleased. Rhett insisted on accompanying her to his office, giving Atlanta something else to discuss. Men were amused, but dared not show it, and women were envious that Scarlett's husband was obviously proud of his impending fatherhood and so concerned about his wife that he would sit in the waiting room while she was examined. Everyone, even those who disliked the Butlers, was sincerely pleased that the couple were expecting, the shock and grief of Bonnie's passing still fresh in their minds. No one, they agreed, not even Scallawags, should be forced to bury a child. Rhett's sudden disappearance from the town had caused tongues to wag, tongues which wagged again at his equally sudden reappearance. However, since the Butlers had renounced their Carpetbagger friends, and had made a sincere effort to support the decent citizens of Atlanta, those same citizens accepted them. Scarlett's mother was a Robillard, and Rhett's father had been well-respected in both Charleston and Atlanta. Perhaps, the matriarchs declared, breeding was showing, at last.

The arrival of Melanie Butler brought visitors to the large house on Peachtree Street by the score in the first few days. Neither Scarlett nor Rhett had divulged their choices for names, and when word got out that Scarlett had given birth to a girl, and she had been named for Melanie Hamilton Wilkes, the good people of Atlanta totally capitulated, even India Wilkes, who called alone. The scandal of Scarlett in Ashley's arms the day of his birthday party never completely faded from the memories of Atlanta's citizens, but following India's visit to the new parents, even Scarlett's detractors, who firmly believed the worst of her, bit their tongues and sent good wishes, even if they could not bring themselves to call.

Rhett, seeing how fatigued his wife had become, politely but firmly escorted Mrs. Meade and Mrs. Elsing out the front door, and instructed the servants that no one else was to be allowed inside until the following day. His mother had wired that she would like to visit, but Rhett's reply informed her that the entire family would be in Charleston as soon as Scarlett was able to travel. Rhett locked the front door and took the stairs two at a time.

Scarlett was nursing Melanie and Rhett stopped, awestruck. It was a moment that would be forever imprinted on his heart and in his mind, the perfect love between mother and child. Scarlett looked up at him and smiled.

Rhett carefully sat next to his wife, and caressed his daughter's face with his finger. "She's going to have green eyes, my sweet, like you. And black hair."

"And I hope Mother's disposition," Scarlett said seriously. "Not mine."

Scarlett handed the baby to her husband and leaned back on the pillows. "Could you have Wade and Ella come in and say good-night?" she asked. The arrival of their new sister had delighted them both, and Ella in particular had fallen in love with the baby.

Rhett watched his wife with tender eyes. "Have I told you how much I love you, Scarlett O'Hara?"

"Butler," she corrected him. "Scarlett Butler. And yes, you have, but you may tell me as often as you like." Scarlett smiled at him. "A thousand times a day is about right."

A tap at the door interrupted them. Lou stood nervously in the doorway. "Miz Scarlett, Mr. Rhett done told us not to let no more visitors in, but Mr. Ashley and Beau is downstairs."

"Send them up, Lou, it's fine," Scarlett said.

Rhett frowned slightly, then smoothed his face. Of course Ashley needed to see the baby named for his late wife. He heard feet outside their room and opened the door.

"Cigar, Ashley?" He extended one of his special Cubans.

"Thank you. Beau and I won't stay long, just wanted to congratulate you and see the baby," Ashley declared.

Rhett gestured them to enter and Beau crossed to the bed. "Aunt Scarlett, she's got green eyes, just like you. And she's so tiny."

"Yes, she is," Scarlett agreed. "But you were tinier when you were born."

Beau's eyes turned serious. "The night Atlanta fell. We went to Tara."

She nodded. "Yes, thanks to Uncle Rhett. He got us a horse and wagon."

"Mother told me how brave you were, Aunt Scarlett."

Scarlett laughed. "I was scared to death, caught between Yankees on both sides. If I hadn't known about that country road, we would never have made it home."

Rhett winced at her words. He had known she would manage, but at the thought of the fear she had endured, his conscience smote him once more. And he recalled that she felt that journey was the first step in the road to hardening her. He should have taken them all to Tara, then joined the army.

"May I?" Ashley asked, looking down at his wife's namesake.

Scarlett silently handed him the baby.

"Beautiful," Ashley murmured. "Congratulations. Scarlett, you are positively radiant."

"I'm so happy, Ashley. Truly, for the first time in years and years." She met his eyes and she felt a pang at the sadness and grief still present in them.

"You deserve it," Ashley stated with soft firmness. "Both of you." His gaze moved to Rhett, lounging against the wall, his dark eyes searching the other man's face, the man whom Scarlett had once dreamed of while lying in his arms.

Rhett saw genuine friendship and caring in Ashley's gray eyes, the same emotions which were now evident in Scarlett's. Although he never doubted her newly discovered love for him, the years of competing with Ashley Wilkes had taken a toll. Seeing them together, as old friends in such a private moment, freed the last vestige of insecurity from his soul. He mocked himself silently. He, Rhett Butler, the blockade runner known for his bold, daring moves, insecure. But he had been. Finally, he thought, finally, she belongs to me. Completely, totally, and eternally, the way we were meant to be.

"I know Melly is smiling," Ashley continued. "She loved babies and children so, and she loved you, Scarlett." He handed the child to her. "It means a great deal, naming her after Melly."

"Mrs. Wilkes is her guardian angel," Rhett spoke up.

Ashley turned to him in surprise. Rhett Butler had never been one for religion or God or angels.

"Yes, she is," Beau piped up. "Mother would be very happy today."

"She is very happy today," corrected Ashley. He cleared his throat and got to his feet. "Congratulations again. We'll show ourselves out."

Ashley paused in the doorway and turned around in time to see Rhett gently take Scarlett in his arms. He saw her face soften and a hand reach to his cheek. Yes, she is happy, overjoyed, Ashley thought with relief, sincerely pleased that Scarlett had found love. They had both been so blind, and all the while, their happiness was right in front of them. He pulled the door closed quietly and followed his son down the steps.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Wade and Ella's excited voices drifted up to the second floor verandah, a sound which caused their parents to smile. After a month in Charleston, the two older children had made many friends and had become closer to their Grandmother Butler and to their Aunts Pauline and Eulalie. Melanie had been kissed and held by every member of respectable Charleston society during their first week, actions which caused Rhett to fume to Scarlett that he wished people would leave the baby alone. After that evening, Scarlett had quietly gone to her mother-in-law and requested that guests be kept to a minimum, pleading her own weakness as an excuse. The elder Mrs. Butler immediately apologized for over-taxing her, and thankfully, the number of visitors decreased.

Rhett's obvious love for his wife and child, as well as his stepchildren, went further than he knew in re-establishing his acceptance in Charleston. When he had suddenly appeared, alone, after Bonnie's death, the town happily gossiped, and even his mother had been hard pressed to explain his visit to the beautiful house on the Battery, finally deciding to tell her concerned friends that Rhett's grief was so deep and severe that he had to temporarily remove himself from anything and anyone which would remind him of Bonnie. Charleston frowned, believing his wife should be at his side, but out of respect for Mrs. Butler, refrained from criticizing and speculating in her presence.

Scarlett, never a favorite of Mrs. Butler or Rhett's sister, Rosemary, also made significant inroads in redeeming herself, an action which Scarlett had not planned. Mrs. Butler watched the way Scarlett's eyes followed her son, saw how they lit up whenever he entered a room, and noted the love which always glowed quietly in their green depths. The elder Mrs. Butler also carefully studied her son, and recognized a change in him, as well. Where before his eyes held a glint which she could not place, they now held happiness and contentment. The tender way he took Scarlett's hand, held her when they thought they were alone, and the look in his eyes all spoke of his deep love for his wife. Perhaps it had taken the loss of their beloved Bonnie to bind them together. Whatever the reason, Rhett's mother was relieved that her son had finally found what he had been searching for since he had left home decades before. And if that fast baggage Scarlett O'Hara made him happy, then Scarlett would be treated with the respect and courtesy due the wife of a Charlestonian Butler.

Evenings were often spent at the homes of old family friends, after which Rhett would frequently dismiss the carriage and walk her home in the humid night air, making candid and unflattering remarks about other guests.

Both of them knew why they went to these social functions, and both of them had come to accept the complete loyalty of the respectable citizens to the old days, although neither subscribed to the die-hard philosophy of the Lost Cause or the former slow way of live. Rhett's statement about changing only his spots held true, although Scarlett, he recognized, was changing a bit more than her spots. Both were too practical, too shrewd, and still too selfish to desire living in the past, but recognized that their children could, in fact, have the best of both worlds: the respect and acceptance of the Old Guard, along with money and financial security their parents provided.

The dark, warm nights were spent in each other's arms, making love, or holding one another, many times silently, neither one needing words to express their love. Scarlett's recovery from childbirth had taken longer than with her previous children, and Rhett had quietly reined in his lust, happy to hold her in his arms and stroke her back, or brush her long black hair. The day Dr. Carter finally pronounced her well enough to resume marital relations, she had greeted Rhett at the bedroom door wearing her wrapper, then dropped it when he closed the door behind him. Afterward, she had hesitantly informed her husband that the physician advised that she wait two years before becoming pregnant, and explained what he wanted her to use to prevent a pregnancy.

Rhett scowled at the information. "Is it safe?" he demanded. "Because if there's any risk to you, we'll find another doctor, one more knowledgeable."

"It's safe, Rhett. The doctor says so." She blushed. "I didn't know there were such things. Mamie Bart never told me. If I had, we would never have had separate rooms." Scarlett's blush deepened, and Rhett smothered a laugh. That she was embarrassed, after all the ways they had been together, every way a man and woman could be, amused and touched him.

Rhett stared at her thoughtfully. The girls at Belle's always used something, but to his knowledge, ladies infrequently did. It had never occurred to him to enlighten his wife, his anger and frustration at her banishment cutting him to the quick, his hurt so all encompassing, he had never thought that perhaps Scarlett was ignorant of such things.

"Are you upset? Do you want another baby right away?" she asked.

"Scarlett, my love, the good doctor knows best, and if he thinks we should wait, then we wait." Rhett bent over and kissed her. Dear God, if something happened to her, he would never recover.

_"I'll not risk my heart a third time."_

A shiver moved up his spine. He had successfully concealed his constant fear for Scarlett's health during her pregnancy, and Rhett decided he would personally visit Dr. Carter as soon as possible. Another hefty dose of guilt assailed him. If not for her nearly fatal fall down the stairs, there would be no reason for such concern and worry about children. He had done this to her, to them, and his heart ached. Rhett clasped her more tightly to him, soaking in the warmth and love she willingly offered.

Scarlett leaned out the bedroom window and took a deep breath of the dew-filled air. There was no smell in the world like that of Tara, a unique mixture of red earth, jasmine, and pine trees, and, if the wind was right, the smell of the river wafted to her. Rhett pulled her back to lean on his chest, then wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Happy?" he whispered in her ear.

She nodded, her heart too full to speak. Under Will Benteen's loving care, Tara was one of the best farms in Clayton County. Far removed from its days as a plantation, it still boasted some of the most fertile soil in the area, and crops did well. Through Big Sam, more workers, many of them former Wilkes and O'Hara slaves, had found their way to Tara, and Will, for once, accepted Scarlett's money for their pay without argument, knowing that in the long run, these men and their families would make the difference between success and failure.

"Oh, Rhett, I want it to be like it was," she sighed. "As fine a place as any in the county."

"I doubt that will happen in our lifetime, my love, but perhaps Melanie's." He kissed her neck, his desire, as always, so near the surface whenever Scarlett was in his arms. God, he was almost half a century old, and still lusting after her.

"Rhett, would you talk to him? Get him to take a very large amount of money? He'll take a bit here and there, but I want to know Tara will always be here, for our grandchildren. Maybe if you talk to him, man to man." Scarlett turned in his arms and her eyes were damp.

"I'll try, Scarlett, but Will's nearly as stubborn as you," he laughed. He turned at a knock on the door, then grinned when he saw Mammy enter with the baby in her arms.

Mammy's age was showing, her tread slow, her gnarled hands shaking at times, but she insisted she was more than capable of tending the newest arrival, and had scolded both Rhett and Scarlett when they attempted to protest.

"Mist Rhett, you and Miss Scarlett come here," Mammy ordered, "and look at this baby. Who you think she look like?"

"Who does she look like?" Scarlett repeated. "Why, I think she looks like Rhett, only with green eyes."

Mammy studied the baby and shook her head.

"Scarlett?" guessed Rhett, reaching a finger for Melanie to grab.

"She look like Miss Ellen," Mammy said softly, "only with Miss Scarlett's eyes and your smile, Mist Rhett."

"Mother? Really?" Scarlett felt her eyes dampen.

"Yes, chile, your mother. And I thank the Lord I lived long enough to see this baby." Mammy settled herself in the rocking chair. "I spect Miss Ellen and Miss Melly crying, Miss Scarlett, but now they crying with joy. Mist Wade and Miss Ella, they happy now. You and Mist Rhett, you finally say you love each other. Miss Melly and me, we knowed it for years. You two stubborn as mules." She smiled, and began to hum to the baby.

"Mules in horse harness, Mammy?" teased Rhett.

"Mebbe I was wrong bout that," Mammy admitted slowly. "Mebbe you two got some horse blood after all. Anyone have a chile sweet and beautiful as this one, well, mebbe I was wrong."

"Bonnie was sweet and beautiful," murmured Rhett.

Mammy shot him a sharp look. "Yes, suh, she was. But this baby, she born from love. That the difference, make Miss Melanie so special."

Rhett's eyes met hers. How the devil did she know? But Mammy knew everything. "Yes, she was born from love," he agreed.

Mammy smiled at him. "Now you two go on, Mammy here now. Miss Melanie be fine."

Scarlett took his hand and they headed out door, Scarlett stopping only long enough to grab a large straw hat.

"Where are we off to?" Rhett inquired.

"The cemetery," Scarlett murmured. "I made Will put in a nice bench and a statue and new headstones last year. It was looking so shabby." She reached for his hand and led him across the lawn. Settling herself on the iron bench, she sat silently for a long while, talking to her parents in her heart and mind.

Rhett watched her, saw two tears fall slowly down her face, but resisted the urge to wipe them away.

"Mother's happy, and she's at peace. I can feel it," Scarlett declared, then blushed. "I know it's hypocritical, but."

"No, it's not," interrupted Rhett. "If it comforts you, my love, it's not. And I can see in your eyes that it has."

Scarlett nodded and gazed across the horizon, seeing Tara as it had been so many years before, the fields full of white puffs, hearing her mother's soft voice, her father's loud bluster, both long stilled.

"I wonder how it would be, if Mother had lived," she mused aloud. "All the way home the day Atlanta fell, especially after you left, all I could think about was seeing Mother. Then I got here and she was gone. Did I ever tell you what she said, before she died?"

"No, you didn't." Rhett wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Dilcey told me that Mother died calling for a man named Philippe. I never heard of him, and I've always wondered who he was and why Mother died with his name on her lips. I asked Mammy but she always said Dilcey had misunderstood. But I know she didn't."

Rhett stiffened and Scarlett turned to him in astonishment.

"Do you know?" Her eyes were round and shocked.

He hesitated, wondering if a lie was kinder, then decided she needed to know.

"His name was Philippe Robillard, your mother's first cousin. He was a great deal like me, Scarlett, the black sheep of the family. I heard rumors, everyone heard rumors." He paused.

"Your mother and Philippe were deeply in love. She was only fifteen, but was determined to marry him. I'm not sure of the circumstances, but Philippe was banished to New Orleans, where he was killed in a fight in a bar. Shortly thereafter, I heard she had married your father." His eyes were concerned as they met hers.

Scarlett felt as if she were listening to the story of a stranger. Not her mother, not her sweet, kind, even-tempered mother, the woman she had confused with the Virgin Mary when she was a child.

"He was like you?" she questioned.

"Yes, both of us scoundrels, eager to break from the staid life of the coastal South, in love with unattainable women."

"Why didn't he come back for her?"

"My pet, as I told you," Rhett said patiently, realizing she could not comprehend it all at once, "he was killed. I imagine that New Orleans was a temporary stop for Philippe, that he was going to wait, bide his time, then return for her, just as I always came back to you. But he died before he could."

Scarlett gaped at him, her mind struggling to absorb what Rhett had told her. Of course, Rhett would have known. He was, after all, a year older than her mother would be, had she survived, and Charleston and Savannah social circles included one another.

"Did you know my mother?" she queried.

"No, I never had the pleasure."

"Why didn't you tell me before, that you knew this?" Her green eyes weren't angry, but puzzled.

"You never mentioned Philippe, and I saw no reason to bring up your mother's past. Her life was here, at Tara, with her husband and her daughters."

Scarlett looked hurt and confused, and Rhett stroked her back.

"Scarlett, my darling, you're much more like your mother than you ever suspected. Yes, she was a great lady, but she was also flesh and blood, and she loved and grieved and made a new life for herself with your father. Perhaps your strength comes from her, even though you've always claimed it came from the O'Haras. Your temper, well, no doubt it's from your father, but that inner strength, I surmise that's a gift from your mother, Scarlett." Rhett lifted her face and gently kissed her.

"It's impossible to believe," she whispered, "Mother in love with someone else. And she loved him til the day she died. But she, she always seemed happy."

"She loved you and your sisters, Scarlett, and I suspect she felt honest affection for your father, perhaps even love. Since I never met her, I can't say." Rhett waited, his dark eyes watching her.

"She married a man she didn't love, just like I did." Scarlett's eyes grew damp. "We are alike in some ways, Rhett. But I've done bad things."

Despite himself, Rhett smiled. "I thought we settled this the day I proposed to you, my pet. Would you have done anything differently? Any of it?"

"Yes, I would never have married Charles. He was such a boy, and I can barely recall him now," she said sadly. "And I wouldn't have married Frank."

"But then you wouldn't have had Melanie Wilkes in your life, or Wade, or Ella," Rhett pointed out. "Everything in life is connected, my sweet, I learned that years ago. One thing affects hundreds of other things, and when we do something, we have no idea how it will affect the rest of our lives. Do you see that, Scarlett?"

"Yes, I see. But, Rhett, Mother. She was unhappy."

"Perhaps. As I said, she loved her daughters, and from what you've told me over the years, was a good neighbor, a kind lady, caring for the sick and so forth. Oh, she may not have been filled with joy, but we should believe she accepted her life and made the best of it. There are far worse fates."

"How did you get so smart about people, Rhett?" Scarlett turned curious eyes on him.

He laughed and kissed her. "Scarlett, my love, did you forget that I once made a great deal of money at poker tables? If there's one thing I learned and learned quickly, it was to be able to understand and see through people. My life and my income depended on it."

"I love you, Rhett," she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"And I love you," he said before his lips met hers in a deep, passionate kiss. He felt her moan and silently pulled her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked to the house.

They wandered into the parlor and Rhett's eyes flitted to the two large windows. One was still missing green velvet drapes, and he sucked in his breath at the memory. Gallant Scarlett, out to conquer the world in her mother's drapes. Offering to become his mistress in exchange for his paying taxes on Tara. How he had wanted to help her, how he had worried about her, and how desperately wounded he had been to learn of her marriage. If she could have waited a mere five weeks, he would have married her immediately.

After two weeks at Tara, Scarlett's always short patience with her sister had reached its limit, and she loudly informed Rhett they were leaving as soon as possible.

"Pray tell, what's she done now?" Rhett smothered a grin at her angry face as he pulled her into his lap. Scarlett's temper was showing itself with a vengeance, and he thoroughly enjoyed seeing it. She so seldom worked herself into fits of rage, just minor tempers, since he had stopped maliciously teasing her, and his perverse nature missed them.

"She had the nerve to bring up Frank again. After all this time. Imagine! She called me a prostitute, Rhett, said I sold myself to him and then to you. I could wring her neck, I swear. God's nightgown, a prostitute."

"My love, you were never a prostitute. Practical, and desperate, and wanting security. What caused your sister to make this unflattering observation?"

"All I did was ask her to take some money to buy her children some decent clothes. You've seen them, dressed in rags. And she certainly needs some new things, and Will, well, he needs clothes and tools and more mules."

"So she took offense," Rhett summarized helpfully.

"I was only trying to help and she called me a prostitute. My own sister! Rhett, we've got to leave right away. I can't stay here. Please, Rhett, take me home."

"Darling, you know I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy. We'll leave the day after tomorrow, and I'll talk to Will tonight." He stroked her back. "My pet, Suellen is married to Will now, and I think she's as happy as she can be. But she will never forgive you for Frank, even though he certainly had the choice not to marry you. In her eyes, you stole him. It seems to me as if she's not the only O'Hara daughter who inherited more than her fair share of obstinate pride."

Scarlett tipped her head to him and sighed. "Do you suppose that's it? Why we've never gotten on?"

"Perhaps. I can't say, not knowing Sue well, but I have watched the two of you spar these past two weeks, and yes, you are rather alike. Although, my love, you are infinitely more appealing." He buried his lips in her hair.

Rhett lounged in a sagging overstuffed armchair in the parlor and waited patiently until only he and Will remained. Will's pale blue eyes examined Rhett, his face as bland as Rhett's.

"Just speak your mind," drawled Will in his slow, flat voice.

"Scarlett's happiness is the most important thing in the world to me, and Tara is tied to that happiness," he stated succinctly.

"Know that," agreed Will. "She loves this land, fought and struggled to keep it. Reckon I know more 'bout that than you, since I was here."

"I have in my pocket a very large bank draft which you will take and spend on your family and on this former plantation. You will take it because it will make Scarlett happy and because Tara is your children's heritage as well as hers. She wants her family decently dressed, wants you to have horses and mules, plant thousands of acres if possible." Rhett's face was smooth but his eyes glinted. He recognized stubborn pride when he saw it.

"Don't like taking money for my own place," Will finally stated.

Rhett sat up straight in the chair and leaned closer to him. "But you shall.

And use to make Tara the way it was before the war. Fill the place with horses and cattle and whatever else you need. For Scarlett." He laid the draft on the table between them and his eyes glowed fiercely. An unspoken promise lay in his eyes, one which Will understood.

Will recognized that an angry Rhett Butler was a dangerous man but continued to face him calmly. "I'll take it, but not for Scarlett. I'm takin' it for Sue and the children."

Rhett got to his feet. "Your reasons are immaterial to me," he said smoothly and honestly, "just so you use it to restore Tara." He walked toward the stairs, then turned to face Will. "And use some of the money to get some decent curtains and furniture in this parlor."

He quietly opened the door to their room, allowing his eyes to focus in the faint light from the candle on the table. Scarlett was nursing Melanie, and as always, the sight caused his heart to momentarily stop. He closed the door, and she turned to smile at him.

"She's almost finished," Scarlett whispered. Rhett sank down across from them and reached a finger to his daughter's black baby fuzz.

"Gorgeous," he murmured. "Both of you. And Will took the money."

Scarlett gently wiped Melanie's mouth and laid her in the cradle, then adjusted her nightgown.

"Hold me, Rhett."

He swept her into his arms and settled them in the only chair in the room. "What's wrong, honey?"

Only Rhett could say that endearing term so sweetly. He had called her that so many times, frequently in a jeering and malicious tone, other times soft and caring, as now. How wonderful it was not to fight and spar and try to analyze his words. Now his words were sincere, not needing to be split apart and examined. Life with Rhett was comfortable, full of love, and Scarlett was still amazed at the peace which had completely taken over her soul.

"I keep thinking about Mother. About how I never really knew her. The war came, I married Charles, and before I knew it, she was dead. I'd so like to have the chance to talk with her, just once, tell her how much I love her and miss her. And ask her how she survived, loving a dead man for more than half of her life." Scarlett leaned her head against him and sobbed quietly.

His hands stroked her back, and he murmured nonsensical words into her ear. Scarlett felt the steady rise and fall of his chest, and her hand crept up to stroke him. She felt him tense and his hold on her tightened. Since he had been home, his drinking had decreased dramatically, and the frequent rides he and Scarlett took had turned his face tan once more. The puffiness had nearly completely left his face and waist, and except for the graying hair and mustache, he could have passed once more for the dashing scoundrel who first intrigued her. God, she had wasted so much time, loving a dream, when the man she adored was Rhett.

Looking back over the years, she knew now that she began loving him during the war, after the bazaar, when he came calling at Aunt Pitty's. She always looked forward to his visits, was pleased to see him, even enjoyed the verbal sparring in which she routinely came out second-best. Later on, he was the only man with whom she could talk about business and not be upbraided for being unladylike, the only one who truly knew her nature and thought none the less of her. Rhett, never failing to understand her, always behind her, guiding her, loving her, supporting her. She lifted her eyes and saw he was watching her, as he had done since the barbecue at Twelve Oaks. Only now, his eyes held love and devotion and passion.

"Thank you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

His eyes showed genuine surprise.

"For holding my lovely wife? That is, I believe, part of a husband's responsibility." He bent over and kissed her gently.

"For loving me, and accepting me as I am, and for always coming back, even when I told you not to." She smiled at him. "And I told you not to return several times, I recall."

"Yes, you did, but I paid you no mind, if memory serves me correctly. And when I did finally leave, I was gone a vast six months, a far cry from my intention. But Scarlett, I can't live without you, and it's pointless to try. I never believed in destiny, until I met you. But you, my love, are my destiny. So, you're welcome."

He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Scarlett touched places in his heart that had long been empty, filling them with peace and contentment. They lay together afterward, limbs still intimately intertwined, and Rhett placed his hand over her rapidly beating heart. If hers stopped, so would his. She was the air that he breathed, and her love held him together.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Conclusion

Scarlett shoved the signed papers across the desk and breathed a sigh of relief. The store was now gone, sold to a Yankee, of all people, for a very large sum of money which Rhett would invest for Wade and Ella. After months of wavering, she had finally reached her decision, and didn't regret it a bit. Afternoons in Rhett's arms were infinitely preferable to checking ledgers and doing inventory, and since he had not returned to his desk at the bank, the two of them had fallen into a passionate routine of daytime lovemaking, after which Rhett would bathe her and brush her long black hair.

She wandered onto the street, searching for her carriage. The streets of Atlanta were bustling, the building and growth continuing even with the Democrats back in power. Atlanta was once more the center of most of the Southern rail lines, and businessmen from many states had relocated, anxious to escape the cold and snow of the north and make their fortunes at the same time. Waving at Hiram, her new driver, she waited patiently, thinking about the news Dr. Carter had given her two days before. Another baby. She wanted to find the perfect time to tell Rhett, as she had with Melanie.

Melanie, now three, was beautiful, spoiled, and sweet. A strong stubborn streak ran within her small body, a streak both her parents recognized. What had happened to Bonnie would not happen again, and that meant Melanie did not get her way at all times, sending her wailing and crying to her room, and causing Rhett's heart to break. He, more than Scarlett, hated to refuse his daughter a thing, but knew he had to maintain more control over himself.

His love for Wade and Ella was evident at all times, his care and concern for them astounding Scarlett. She had once asked him why he loved them so, when many of her friends' husbands barely tolerated their stepchildren.

"Because, my pet, they are part of you, and I love you, therefore, I love them. And they are good children, Scarlett." Rhett gazed into her eyes and smiled. "You've become a good mother, my darling, something which I had once thought impossible. Can you believe I just admitted that I was wrong?"

He grinned at her once more, then kissed her.

Soon after Melanie began talking, and Rhett had once more become "Daddy," the two sisters were playing with their dolls in the study as their parents discussed plans for their upcoming trip to Europe.

"Daddy," Melanie interrupted, "play with me."

"Yes, Daddy," Ella concurred, then stopped, embarrassed. "I mean, Uncle Rhett."

Rhett's eyes drifted to his wife's, then back to Ella.

He moved to the floor and pulled Ella into his lap.

"Ella, honey, I would very much like it if you called me Daddy, unless you don't want to."

Ella looked at her mother, who smiled and nodded, then threw her arms around Rhett's neck. "You are my daddy," she whispered. "You've always taken care of me and loved me."

"And I always will," he promised her, kissing her cheek.

Scarlett tossed her hat on the hall table and headed for the study where Rhett spent much of his time. He was still vague about many of his business ventures, as well as the young man who was his ward in New Orleans, and Scarlett held her tongue. Rhett would always have parts of his life which he would not share with her, and she accepted that now with understanding, where in years past, she had accepted it because she was incapable of caring about anything which did not directly concern her, despite her curiosity.

His promise to never leave her, and to take her with him on his frequent business trips, was one he kept. The day he told her that they were departing for New York, she stared at him with frank amazement.

"That's a Yankee city, Rhett," she cried. "I will not set foot in it!"

"I know it's in Yankee territory, my dear, and it's full of men who are eager to make my acquaintance and add to my bank accounts. And it's full of the most enticing stores with the latest fashions." He grinned at her, enjoying the sight of her dislike of anything Northern fighting with her desire for new clothes.

She scowled at him, and he laughed at her.

"I knew you'd want to accompany me. It'll be fun. You have unlimited finances, and nearly unlimited stores. I'm sure you won't be lonely during the day, and at night, we'll visit the best restaurants," Rhett assured her.

Scarlett's purchases required nearly half a boxcar to get back to Atlanta, and after the visit to New York, she never again complained about visiting a city north of the Mason-Dixon line.

Rhett looked up from the desk and smiled at her. "No regrets about selling it?" he inquired after kissing her.

"None." She sank into a chair near him.

Rhett examined her eyes and laid down his papers.

"Something's on your mind." His dark eyes held hers in an assessing gaze.

"Hold me, Rhett," she whispered.

In one lithe movement, he swept her into his arms and settled her on his lap, her arms around his neck.

"What's wrong, my love?" His voice was low and comforting, his breath warm against her neck.

"Nothing's wrong." She sat up and stroked his face. "We're having a baby."

Seeing his shocked face, Scarlett smiled. "In six months."

Rhett sealed her smiling lips with his, and gripped her tightly to his chest.

"I love you, Scarlett." His voice was hoarse, and his hands on her face were gentle as he cupped her face and kissed her once more.

"I was waiting for the perfect time to tell you," she confessed, "like Melanie."

"Any time is perfect," he declared. Another child. They had been trying for a year, and had almost resigned themselves to the fact there would be no more babies.

"I wish Mammy were alive to see this baby," sighed Scarlett.

Mammy had slipped away peacefully, in her sleep, two years before. Scarlett's grief was tempered by the knowledge that Mammy was with her beloved Miss Ellen and Miss Bonnie, caring for them and loving them.

Rhett stroked her back, but said nothing.

She tipped her face to his. "I hope it's a boy, Rhett."

"It doesn't matter, my love, as long as it's healthy and you are healthy." Rhett deliberately kept his face blank. Scarlett's newly-acquired ability to read his eyes and face had become slightly unnerving, as she seemed now to know instinctively what he was thinking and feeling. At times like this, when he felt overcome with concern for her, he wished her skills were less proficient.

"What does Dr. Carter say?" He kept his voice light. Despite her successful delivery of Melanie, Rhett's fear that something would happen to Scarlett during pregnancy or childbirth haunted him, and his guilt over her fall and near-death was never far from his thoughts for very long.

"That I'm fine, the baby is fine. I have to take follow all the instructions I did with Melanie." Her brow furrowed and Rhett laughed.

"Yes, you do," he agreed lightly. "To the letter."

Daniel Gerald Butler arrived in early spring, just as the daffodils were blooming. Scarlett thought it appropriate that their son and the season of rebirth arrived at the same time. Rhett's pride knew no bounds, and Scarlett suspected that despite his words to the contrary, he had deeply wanted a son.

Dr. Carter advised them that Scarlett not have more children, an edict Scarlett protested vehemently, but one with which Rhett concurred. Scarlett cried on his chest, but Rhett remained firm.

"My darling, we have four beautiful children," he said quietly, "and we're very lucky. Scarlett, look at me."

She reluctantly lifted her face to his.

"No more pregnancies, my love. And no tricks, either. I'll know and be very disappointed in you." His tone was light but Scarlett recognized the firm jaw, the gleam in his eyes.

"I won't, Rhett," she sniffled.

"Just making sure, my dear," he stated. "I won't risk losing you."

She smiled at him, recalling another similar conversation when she had told him about Bonnie.

_"Do I mean so much to you?"_

_He gave her a level look, as though estimating how much coquetry was behind the question. Reading the true meaning of her demeanor, he made casual answer._

_"Well, yes. You see, I've invested a great deal of money in you and I'd hate to lose it."_

If only we had been honest with one another, she thought with regret. We could have had so many more years of happiness.

"Yes, we're very lucky," Scarlett sighed. She wrapped her arms around his neck, content to soak in his love.

Rhett slipped from their bed, stood looking at his sleeping wife, then opened the door to the wide, second floor porch which extended around the house. He lit a cigar and gazed at the quiet street, then settled in a large white wicker chair. It was early, barely dawn, and a hint of fall was in the air. Five years had passed since Bonnie's death, Melly's death, and his vow not to return to Scarlett except to keep gossip down. Yet he had returned, never to leave. And thank God he had. How could he have been such a fool? How could he have tossed her aside, the only woman he had ever really loved? Even after five years, he grew hot with shame and grief. His recognition years ago of his unfairness in punishing Scarlett for not lying to him about loving him still tormented him.

He freely admitted how happy he was now, and how happy Scarlett was. He knew her to her bones, even with the small changes to her personality. She still worked herself into tempers, but not the white, killing rage he had seen at the jail. He could not stop teasing her, as it gave him such enjoyment, but his teasing now was gentle and loving, not mean spirited or malicious as it had been previously. Scarlett was a woman at peace with her life and herself, and he suspected she had never felt that emotion since early childhood, certainly not since she placed a suit of pretty clothes on Ashley Wilkes at the tender age of fourteen and spent years chasing a dream.

Wade and Ella were thriving, overjoyed with at long last receiving their mother's love and attention, and Melanie was growing up far too quickly to suit her father, as was Daniel. Thanks to their parents' efforts, all four children were now firmly entrenched as members of the Old Guard, and Scarlett and Rhett were welcomed and treated with polite courtesy, if not honest affection. India and Ashley Wilkes' acceptance of the couple went far in smoothing their path to respectability, and Rhett's rudeness following Bonnie's death had been excused due to his grief. It was Scarlett with whom Atlanta had had a problem, but she had acted the repentant so long, Rhett recognized that she had honestly come to enjoy some of the causes she supported. Frequently, however, when she returned home after one of her many meetings, she would curse and rail, and he would cooperate by making a snide comment or two, then Scarlett would sigh and say: "I have to do it for Melly."

Ashley's business acumen had not improved with time, and because of Scarlett's deathbed promise to his wife, she frequently was forced to undo his mistakes. Thanks to her surprisingly gentle suggestions, Ashley was making a success of the mills despite himself. Scarlett also kept her promise to take care of Beau. Whenever Wade received a new toy, pony, or clothes, his cousin Beau did as well. The two boys were inseparable, and both had declared they were attending Harvard to study law, a proclamation which caused Scarlett to throw a tantrum in the privacy of their room.

"God's nightgown, Rhett, that's a Yankee school! I promised Melly that I'd be sure Beau went there, but Wade! Great balls of fire, a Yankee school!"

Rhett's mouth twitched as he fought his laughter at her outburst. "My love, Harvard is the best in the country, and in the long run, it's a better choice. People respect Harvard, even if it is in the North, and Wade and Beau will be much more successful and respected. They'll make more money." He watched her battle with herself, her hatred of Yankees fighting with her practical nature, and knew she would capitulate.

"Well, at least Wade's decided not to become a military man like his Grandfather Hamilton," she groused with little grace.

Rhett closed his eyes, and his mind drifted back over the years. So much pain and hurt, followed by an even greater happiness, happiness all the more precious because of the pain. He had learned that he couldn't hold on to sorrow forever. He pictured Scarlett at the barbecue, surrounded by men, and felt the same jolt he had then. She was part of him, her heart and soul intertwined so tightly with his that the two of them had, finally, become one. Every day he was with her was richer than a lifetime without her.

He sensed her before he heard her, slipping onto the verandah and into his lap, a blanket wrapped around her.

"Good morning," she murmured, kissing him gently. "Why are you out here so early? It's cold."

"Thinking, my dear, about how happy I am. How happy we are." He wrapped her long black hair around his throat. "Despite losing Bonnie, we're still happy. That, in and of itself, is a miracle."

He felt her nod.

"And," he continued in his slow Charleston drawl, "you now understand me. Sometimes, my pet, too well."

She lifted her head and smiled at him. "Now you know how I felt all those years. I could never hide anything from you."

"True," he agreed.

They sat silently for several minutes, Rhett stroking her, Scarlett enjoying the warmth and strength of him.

Rhett suddenly rose and carried his wife back to their bed, slowly removed her nightgown and felt her tremble.

"I love you, Scarlett," he murmured. "I always have, and always will."

"And I love you," she replied, pulling him to her.

Fire ignited in Rhett's eyes. They came together slowly, with the love and familiarity of the happily married, eager to share their emotions and their souls. Rhett watched her sleep afterward, reveling in the love which had brought him home from his agonizing loneliness and despair after the loss of Bonnie. They were one, in body, soul, heart, and mind. Rhett buried his lips in her hair, shifted her slightly, and closed his eyes, contentment and love filling him.

EPILOGUE

Scarlett sat alone in their bedroom, her eyes swimming with tears. One year ago yesterday, Rhett had permanently left her. A stroke, Dr. Carter had explained, one which took her beloved quickly and painlessly. He had lived longer than most men of his time, passing at the age of seventy-one, but to Scarlett, he would always be the young, dashing, handsome man who loved her with a devotion beyond comprehension. The years had sped by, both of them living every second to the fullest, as if to make up for the dark times. Rhett frequently surprised her with trips to Europe or their favorite destination, New Orleans, or would impulsively buy her jewelry. They were, Scarlett once told him, perpetually on their honeymoon.

Scarlett brushed the tears from her face and glanced around their bedroom. Every corner of the house was filled with him, she heard his laughter everywhere, saw him in the shadows, waited for him to throw open the door and call for her. The early years of their marriage, the sad, dark years, had been exorcised, replaced with nearly three decades of love and laughter. Their children and grandchildren had begged her to live with one of them, but Scarlett stubbornly refused. This house, the house Rhett had once called a house of horrors, held too many memories, good memories which Scarlett cherished. Memories of Bonnie's running feet, Wade and Ella's laughter, Rhett's gentle teasing, Mammy's rumbled admonitions, Melly's soft voice, the births of Bonnie, Melanie, and Daniel.

Scarlett walked to her closet and reached for a faded hat box which read "Rue de la Paix" on the side, gently pulling it to her. Lifting the lid, she carefully removed a green bonnet.

_"It was of dark green taffeta, lined with water silk of a pale-jade color. The ribbons that tied under the chin were as wide as her hand, and they, too, were pale green. And curled about the brim of this confection was the perkiest of green ostrich plumes."_

_"Whose bonnet is it?"_

_"It's your bonnet. Who else could wear that shade of green? Don't you think I carried the color of your eyes well in my mind?" _

Scarlett seated herself at her dressing table and settled the creation on her graying hair. The middle-aged matron vanished, and she was once again a vivacious young widow, happily wearing the most delectable bonnet in all of the South. She laid her head on her arms and wept as she had not since the morning she found him so still and silent in their bed.

Eventually her tears stopped, and she wearily changed to her nightclothes. Taking the hat with her, she climbed into bed, grasping the bonnet tightly to her chest, as if by doing so, Rhett's presence would engulf her.

A sudden, sharp pain slashed through her brain, and Scarlett reached a hand to her head. She searched for the buzzer to summon Lou, then stopped abruptly.

"Scarlett, darling, come here."

It was Rhett. She sat up, the bonnet clasped in her hand, her green eyes frantically seeking him.

"My pet, we're waiting for you." His voice was low and full of love.

Suddenly she was at Tara, as it had been before the war and Reconstruction, on the sweeping front lawn of Bermuda grass, and she saw a tall, dark-haired man approach her. Scarlett lifted the skirt of her white, green-sprigged dress and ran lightly to him, the green ostrich plume of her bonnet waving as she hurried to him. Bonnie was perched on his left arm, and Rhett's right hand was extended to his wife.

"Bonnie, Bonnie, baby," cried Scarlett, kissing her daughter and brushing the black curls.

"We've been waiting," she said with a hint of impatience. "But now you're here. I love you, Mother."

"I love you, precious," Scarlett stated, smiling with happiness.

Rhett set Bonnie down and his arms wrapped around Scarlett, comforting her, giving her strength, and she lifted her face to his. He was as he had been during the war, so handsome, so dashing, so gentle and virile.

"I love you, Rhett," she murmured. "And I've missed you."

"And I love you, my darling."

He sealed her smiling lips with his.

Bonnie tugged on Rhett's jacket and frowned. He laughed happily and lifted their daughter in his arms.

"Scarlett, my dear, you're home." He kissed her again and, taking her hand, led her to the large front porch of Tara.

Her eyes opened wide and she looked up at Rhett, smiling tenderly at her. "Yes, darling, we've all been waiting," he stated.

She spied Mammy, grinning broadly, her arms extended to Bonnie, who wiggled from her father's grasp and raced to the porch. Mother, a faint smile on her lips, calm and serene. Pa, his florid face beaming with happiness that his Katie Scarlett was home. And Melly, riding across the yard from Twelve Oaks.

"I'm home," Scarlett whispered. "Home, where I belong. With you, Rhett, and my family."

Rhett's lips met hers, and it was as it had always been, his kiss making her go hot and cold and weak and dizzy, all at the same time.

"Ah, Scarlett," he murmured, "I love you. And we will never be apart again."


End file.
